


Challenge One: Kink Grab Bag

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 119,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries for Challenge One: Kink Grab Bag for summerpornathon 2013</p><p>Voting post can be found <a href="http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/89693.html">here.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Group A (warnings)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings (and kinks/pairings) included in chapters 1-4.
> 
> Chapters 5-8 are repeats of chapters 1-4 without warnings or kinks/pairings information.

01.

Kink(s): body modification  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

"Nice tits though," Gwaine said, by way of hello and long time no see, and Arthur cum ... Merlin never caught her name, looked like she wanted to punch him in the face but managed to restrain herself.

She did have a nice pair of them, but Merlin knew better than to say that just now. They ended up in the bar after the conference, after talking too much to people because it was the done thing. And after the bar they ended up in Merlin's room, which was just as well with how much he'd not taken his eyes off her.

That's the way these things went sometimes, nice tits and all.

"If he could implant a womb he'd have me do it just so I can pop out babies for him," she was saying now, perched in the one chair in the room as Merlin leant against the desk. "For the record, nothing to make babies inside," she said when Merlin paused probably a moment too long as he digested that particular mental image.

The edge of her bra peeked out from underneath her blouse, and Merlin shifted his stance because he wasn't that kind of guy. Except it was his room, and they'd last talked, inverted commas, some five years ago and he barely remembered that. (Sort of)

_So what do you have?_ seemed rude but it rested on the tip of his tongue nonetheless. Gwaine banged on the door to get them to go out but Merlin shouted back he might join them later.

"You alone?" Gwaine asked after a pause, then fucked off when Merlin didn't answer. 

"Do you want to fuck though?" she asked once they'd both exhausted studying the skyline and non-talking about weather and work. She tugged at his sleeve.

Merlin's tongue was somewhere in a cat's mouth on the other side of the room, so he just went with it, past shirt and blouse falling by the wayside and tits slipping free, to her on her knees with her mouth on his cock before he'd even quite got the trousers off. He was playing with her nipples, nice handfuls of breasts. It'd been five years and all, but she looked nothing like the person he'd known, and then she did a little, in fleeting glimpses, twists of her lips, eyes looking up at him as she sucked him.

"I sucked your cock," Merlin blurted out, no less rude. She grabbed his hands, pulled it between her legs underneath her skirt, past the fabric of the panties. "Same thing." 

Merlin's fingers went inside.

"Shit," he said and didn't mean it. She huffed around his cock, got her fingers wet on it and pushed them in alongside, making it all glide a little easier.

They ended up crotch to mouth on the bed, her fingers going for his arse because clearly one of them had some memory of last time (another city, another hotel, and they'd all been younger and different, albeit to different degrees). Five seconds, ten at a stretch, and eating her out wasn't much different to sucking her cock, his cock, her cock before.

She made him bent over the bed and fucked him with her fingers until he creamed all over her hand. She made him eat it, and he did, flushing hot red and stomach pulling tight in all the best ways. She smoked out of the window after, still naked, sitting on the sill, legs splayed to show off her pussy, breasts hanging down her chest, watching him.

Merlin dropped the duvet away and stepped across to the window, got a condom and some lube on and slipped into her. The city stretched out far underneath them, cars and people going about their life, as he fucked her against the window with her clamping tight around him.

"Was it better or worse like this?" she asked when Merlin cleaned up, lips curled into a smirk, putting out the cigarette, pulling on her panties, then her bra.

"Different," Merlin said, diplomatic. He thought _tits_ , but he'd spent too much time around Gwaine maybe. 

"Better for me," she said, and Merlin had a profuse apology somewhere but she waved him off. "I'll see you." She left him standing with a full condom in one hand and a limp dick between his legs.

Maybe it had been better indeed. Not too different either, not really. Sex, really, nothing too different about that at all.

 

02.

Kink(s): scarification (body modification), non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): some painplay and bloodplay

“I told you, Arthur. This is the only way.”

Arthur stared down at the knife in his hand warily. He could handle all manner of weapons, but _this_...

“You can’t hesitate,” Merlin told him. “Powerful magic like this needs a conduit, and the people of Camelot will soon _starve_ if I don’t become that vessel. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I had no other choice, Arthur. I can’t do it myself.”

Merlin had tried explaining the limitations and rules to magic before, but even though magic was no longer banned, Arthur still didn’t really understand it. The only thing he could comprehend at the moment was that Merlin wanted him to carve a sigil into his chest.

“For Camelot?” he asked.

Merlin nodded.

Arthur raised the knife and began cutting into Merlin’s flesh.

-

Arthur knew better than most how easy it was to sink a blade into skin. But that had always been in training, or on the battlefield. Cutting into Merlin’s skin was neither of those things, and Arthur could hardly believe that Merlin trusted him enough to do it.

Merlin was unclothed, because the process was a messy one and he said he hadn’t wanted to get any blood on them. Arthur, however, was steadfastly ignoring that fact as he continued to dig into Merlin’s skin, slowly forming the symbol that Merlin had drawn out for him.

It should have been terrifying, but Arthur was more terrified by the fact that he found the sight of Merlin standing there—eyes tightly shut and hands clenched into fists against the pain—captivating. Of course, he imagined Merlin would think him a freak if he admitted that, if he admitted that he found it sexually stimulating to _cut into his best friend with a knife_.

Arthur glanced down for a moment, and blinked when he saw that Merlin’s toes were curled. When he looked up again, he noticed that Merlin’s breathing was quicker.

Merlin was...aroused.

Arthur swallowed; he hadn’t expected that, and despite that he _knew_ the entire situation was fundamentally wrong, he felt himself growing hard.

But there was nothing to be done about that. What he was doing to Merlin, it was for _Camelot_. So he continued working away, carving into Merlin’s flesh, licking at his lips unconsciously as some chunks of skin fell to the ground here and there. The sigil had to be good and deep, because otherwise it might heal before Merlin had completed his task.

Arthur found that he could control how Merlin reacted depending on how deep or shallow he went with the knife, and when Merlin whimpered, he knew it definitely wasn’t from pain—not with how Merlin’s cock was hardening as well.

Merlin exhaled shakily. “Arthur, _Arthur_ ,” he whispered, and Arthur couldn’t think about that, he had to finish the symbol.

-

The second he was done, Arthur tossed the knife to the side, and Merlin sagged in what seemed to be a mixture of relief and disappointment. In something of awe, Arthur reached forward and dragged his fingers through the blood; the action caused Merlin to moan, and before Arthur could stop himself he leaned in and licked at one of Merlin’s nipples.

The sigil hadn’t touched them, thankfully, because Merlin’s nipples were perfect; tight and firm and gorgeous, and injuring them in any way would have been a mortal sin. Merlin seemed to love it as Arthur paid attention to his nipples, if his gasps of pleasure were anything to go by.

His chest was still oozing blood, and the blood was getting smeared everywhere. Arthur’s hands were coated in it, and when Arthur brought his head up to kiss Merlin, a streak of blood was left on Merlin’s face as Arthur stroked it.

They kissed intently, mindless of the blood. One of Arthur’s hands drifted down to continue playing with one of Merlin’s nipples, and without warning, Merlin came with a wild cry, without even being touched.

Arthur watched as Merlin came down from his orgasm slowly, and he smiled at Arthur, who was simply in awe of how beautiful Merlin was. Arthur stroked Merlin’s hip lightly, uncaring of the fact that he hadn’t come yet. Merlin pressed one final kiss to Arthur’s lips before he closed his eyes and began chanting the spell that would save Camelot.

 

03.

Kink(s): non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

Arthur watched Merlin surreptitiously through half-hooded eyes as he made his way around the banquet tables, his hidden agility showing through with his smooth flow as he wound his way through the crowd of guests and other servants. Arthur liked this side of Merlin, the side he seldom showed anyone; it was only now, when he was on a mission that he dropped his guard around the masses. He chuckled deeply remembering a time when he’d scoffed at the idea of Merlin keeping secrets, yet everything about him was secret- a mystery to solve, a gift to unwrap, a quest all its own.

“Sire?”

In a very unprincely fashion, Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin hearing Merlin’s soft voice so near. He looked sideways into deep sapphire eyes. “Mer _lin_ ,” he said with gruffness to mask his surprise. “What is it?”

“Your wine , Sire.”

“What about it, Merlin?”

“You’re about to drop it.”

“What?” Arthur began indignantly then looked to his hand precariously holding the goblet. He carefully set the goblet on the table and out of harm’s way. “Don’t you have something to be doing?”

Merlin appeared to ponder this for a moment, making sure Arthur was watching him as he let his tongue sneak out ever-so-slightly to caress his right canine, the way one might if one was lost in thought. Arthur knew better of course, but he wasn’t about to play into Merlin’s hands so easily- even if he did have to hastily adjust his clothes to accommodate the sudden tightness of his trousers.

After a moment of thoughtfully rubbing his tooth in soft circular motions around and up and down, he smiled. “Of course, Sire, looking after supercilious prats.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and waved his insolent manservant away. If he stayed that close Arthur might not be responsible for his actions, and while he was certain that he and Merlin would enjoy themselves, he doubted very much that Lady Lenora and his father would.

Merlin stepped back, understanding what wasn’t being said, and knew full well he was only exacerbating the prince’s problem. He smiled to himself; this was going to be fun.

All through the banquet, Merlin stayed in Arthur’s field of vision. Whenever Merlin had the chance, he would flash a soft smile seemingly at nothing, but he knew Arthur was watching. Arthur always kept an eye on him, sure that at any moment he’d have to bail his idiot manservant out of some debacle or other, either that or Arthur simply liked to watch him. He wasn’t sure which thought comforted him more or frightened him less. But tonight, as was often the case, he was glad for it. It meant Arthur played right into his hands. He’d smile, lick his lips, and began a slow, tortuous caress of his tooth. Merlin could see Arthur’s discomfort even from across the hall. He was going to be in so very much trouble once they were back in Arthur’s chambers; Merlin was looking forward to it. 

Hours later, the banquet was finally over, winding down enough for it not to be unseemly for the Prince to leave. Merlin followed behind Arthur as they made their way to the prince’s chambers. Merlin barely had time to close the door before Arthur was on him; pushed up against the door, Arthur’s teeth scraping along the nape of his neck.

“You,” Arthur said with a nip to Merlin’s neck, “are going to pay for that.”

“Sire?” Merlin asked feigning innocence.

“You know what,” he growled, raking his teeth hard across his neck and shoulder for emphasis.

“Arthur…” Merlin breathed softly against the wood of the door. “Please?”

A second later, Merlin stood face to face with his already flushed lover. Slowly, Arthur smiled, bright and beautiful, and Merlin attacked, hands coming to hold Arthur’s head, positioning him for the best angle. Merlin dove in full force, first renewing his acquaintance with Arthur’s tongue and the sensitive roof of his mouth, but that wasn’t his target. His target stood, front and not quite centre, and he latched onto it with gusto. 

Arthur mewled as he wrapped his arms around his lover, his body becoming increasingly dead weight as Merlin flicked and licked and _sucked_ on his tooth driving him insane with need. Part of him hated that Merlin could do this to him, but mostly he loved it, the trust and intimacy.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered into his mouth, tongue still teasing his extended tooth, “come for me.”

 

04.

**Title** : Standing O  
Kink(s): Public Sex  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, AU  
Warning(s): None

The music took on a life of its own, thrumming and aching with a heavy bass, moving through the writhing crowd, touching each body like a hungry lover. The dancers turned into the caress, turned into each other, sweating and starving, moving because they couldn’t stop. Standing alone on the platform, DJ Merlin moved with liquid, hypnotic grace. As far as Arthur was concerned, watching Merlin was even better than listening to him, and he couldn’t get enough of the loose limbs, the easy smile, the eyes crinkled in concentration as he guided his music through the room.

Arthur might have been the only one in the party who saw and who watched. They were all caught up in their own worlds, created by Merlin’s beat, augmented by their own rapid heartbeats. Arthur moved, too, gliding with the music until he stood beside the platform. The sight of Merlin was even more amazing up close. The sound board was an extension of his body, the turntable like a manifestation of his soul. And when he looked up and saw Arthur there, he caught a flash of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Do you have a request?” Merlin shouted.

Arthur did, but it had nothing to do with music. Without speaking, he took another step closer, and another, then stepped up onto the platform. Merlin backed up slightly as Arthur invaded his space, sending him a questioning look. Arthur tilted his head slightly, giving the other man a reassuring smile. They’d never been formally introduced, but everybody knew who the DJ was. And everybody there knew who the host of the party was.

Protected by the dim lights and the smoke, Arthur lost no time in making his move. It was not the most subtle move. In fact, most of the time, a move like that would earn him a slap in the face. But when he reached for--and found--Merlin’s stiff cock, Merlin only quirked his lips as if to say how did you know? But Arthur understood the power Merlin wielded on the floor, understood how that power might affect him. He massaged the stiff dick through his jeans, flexing his fingers to coax more blood to the throbbing flesh.

Arthur threw a quick glance over his shoulder, but nobody noticed him. And nobody saw when he sank down to his knees, his mouth already watering in anticipation. From the moment he saw the black-haired DJ, he’d been half-obsessed. He only threw this lavish party to have an excuse to get Merlin exactly there, exactly like that. Now the moment had finally arrived, he wasn’t going to waste another second.

The music was even louder under the table, more insistent in his bloodstream. He unzipped Merlin’s pants and pulled his thick cock out, letting the head skim across his waiting lips. He tasted like his music--salty and hot and rich and low. Arthur wrapped his lips around the crown and gripped Merlin’s narrow hips with both hands, yanking him forward and deeper, driving his shaft all the way down Arthur’s open throat. Did Merlin even know his name? Did he recognize Arthur at all? And, most importantly, could Arthur drive him wild enough to force an error?

His mouth was wet and sloppy and he didn’t have a single ounce of finesse. HIs own cock was so hard against his thigh that his pants cut off his circulation, and he could feel the vein throbbing. He shifted on his knees, but it didn’t do any good. The music shifted suddenly, became something violent and hectic. Something Bacchus himself might approve of. Arthur shifted with it, unleashing his hunger in a torrent, fucking his own throat. But no matter how hard he worked, no matter how often he shifted his own rhythm, he couldn’t coax Merlin into losing his concentration.

The beat picked up faster and faster, until Arthur felt like he was trapped in a fever dream. Everything became surreal, concentrated, perfected. The throbbing against his tongue turned into a flood and the hot, sticky rush down his throat triggered a response from deep inside of him. His zipper dug into his flushed dick, but that didn’t stop the sudden jerking, the satisfying rush of his own orgasm.

The crowd cheered and that was when Arthur realized the mic beside him, and the camera on the platform, picked up every sordid second. He couldn’t help but smile--that definitely deserved a standing ovation. 

 

05.

Kink(s): power play (D/s), semi-public sex  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): D/s dynamics

You Need Only Obey

 

”Stand.”

Merlin’s voice is calm when he looks down on where Arthur kneels before him on the carpeted floor. Arthur hesitates only slightly as he rises because he knows that whatever punishment he’ll get, he’s deserved it. When Merlin reaches to pet the hair on his neck, Arthur can’t help but lean back into the touch.

He desperately wants to meet Merlin’s eyes, to beg his forgiveness, but he forces himself to keep his eyes properly averted. He has a crawling need to feel Merlin’s body under his fingers, to make up for his mistake – but no. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Repeating the words inside his head helps. It turns into a mantra to keep him grounded and sane.

“Oh, pet,” Merlin says softly and slowly runs his other hand over Arthur’s naked chest, surely feeling the minuscule tremor running over Arthur’s skin as he does so. “You thoroughly messed up today.”

Silence. Arthur hasn’t been given a direct question and that means he shouldn’t answer. That’s the rules.

He needs to obey the rules.

Leaning in, Merlin lets his forehead rest against Arthur’s for a moment. He presses a proprietary kiss to the corner of his mouth, just out of reach for Arthur to return it, and takes a step back. 

Arthur has to wait for whatever his Master decides to give him. He makes an effort not to seem neither anxious nor eager, although his body trembles in anticipation of Merlin’s touch – and the impending punishment.

After a couple of minutes, the waiting’s over. Seemingly satisfied with Arthur’s behaviour, Merlin orders, “Strip. All of it.”

They’ve done this before, but this part always makes Arthur nervous. What if someone bursts in and sees them? Merlin never locks the door.

He unzips his trousers before he awkwardly toes off his shoes and socks. Slowly, he takes off his jeans and pants and kicks them away. A blush of excitement travels up Arthur’s chest and he hardens when he thinks about what Merlin might do to him.

Merlin hums approvingly as he watches Arthur before he casually leans back against his desk.

“Come.”

Arthur obediently closes the distance between him and his Master.

Merlin unbuttons his trousers and takes his cock out. There’s no doubt what he wants Arthur to do. As Arthur starts to kneel, he says, “No, do it standing. Bend down and suck my cock and make sure you make it good. I’m going to fuck you afterwards and I don’t think you’ve deserved any lube today, have you, pet?”

Arthur bows his head. “No, Master.”

“You’re right, you haven’t. So make sure you slick me up enough with your pretty mouth.”

Supporting himself with his hands on either side of Merlin’s hips, Arthur bends down and takes the tip of his cock into his mouth. When Merlin lets out a quiet gasp and takes a firm grip on his hair, Arthur murmurs contentedly. He knows he’s good at this. 

The grip isn’t controlling at first, just a reminder of who’s in charge. Arthur can take his time slowly working his way down Merlin’s cock, using his tongue to draw delicious sounds from his Master as he goes. When Arthur gets all the way to the root and begins to suck in earnest, Merlin’s grip on his hair hardens and Arthur stills.

“Make it wet. Last chance.”

It’s not really a chance at all, because Arthur’s head is kept in place when Merlin thrusts up into his mouth a few times before pulling him away. He tilts his head upwards to get a good look on Arthur’s sweaty face. Arthur knows his lips are glistening with saliva, can imagine how debauched he looks.

There’s a knock on the door. “Sir?” a female voice calls.

Arthur freezes in horror, but Merlin doesn’t seem to mind at all – even though he hasn’t even tucked himself back in.

Leaning in, Merlin whispers in Arthur’s ear, “Should I let them in? Let them see how I treat my employees when they’ve misbehaved and lost my company’s money? Let them watch as I fuck you over my desk? Hmm? Answer.”

Arthur’s trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, but his vocal response is the one he’s was taught so many months ago and his eyes never leave the floor as he answers.

“I am yours, Master, and you are free to do with me as you please.”

 

06.

Kink(s): non-genital erogenous zone, auto-erotic asphyxiation, wanking  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin implied  
Warning(s): none

When Arthur had been very young, a knight that hadn't even been his favourite had given him a piece of unasked for advice. 'Focus on your breath,' he'd said. 'It is all you have, in the end. And it is all you need.'

Arthur had disregarded it, until the first time he'd been bested so hard by an opponent that the air had been thumped from his lungs, exiting his body the very moment his body needed it most.

On his knees, gasping like a fish, Arthur had gained wisdom he would hold close to his breast the remainder of his days.

\---

Here's a coil: Merlin does his very best to demonstrate a complete lack of care about proper space.

Arthur can withstand a lot, of course he can, but this manservant with his habit of hovering clumsily… 'Merlin,' Arthur murmurs firmly, crossing his arms and trying not to attract any undue attention. His fingers twitch when Merlin leans in closer. 'Step back, please.'

'Sorry,' Merlin whispers, not sorry at all but stepping back, just far enough that Arthur can no longer feel warm, wined breath upon his neck.

For here's another coil: Merlin is only a little bit taller than Arthur.

Mildly appeased, Arthur breathes in, breathes out. Ignores the heat that is spreading from the back of his neck to the rest of his limbs, making him languorous and itchy all together.

But Merlin with wine is a Merlin who forgets, a Merlin who drops even more things, a Merlin who repeatedly stands much too close, despite further scoldings. A Merlin who tonight delights in leaning into Arthur and chuckling around indelicate comments to do with the guests in the hall.

By the end of the celebrations, Arthur's jaw hurts from suppressing a smile. He's never been so glad to get back to his chambers and dismiss his red-cheeked manservant.

When Merlin disappears through the second door, Arthur inhales and exhales deeply, unsurprised to find the stream of air shaky, uneven, unsettled. He sheds his clothes and lumps them in a pile, uncaring of everything but getting to his bed, which welcomes him with comfort and warmth and the lingering scent that Arthur swears is Merlin, Merlin and wine but that might just be Arthur's body wishing these things, Arthur's breath focused on Merlin's breath, warm and humid and gliding across his skin, across the tiny hairs and pores and sweat and pulses of life…

Arthur groans and takes himself in hand, closing his eyes. All he has to do is imagine Merlin's breath running all over his body and he's hard, wanting to rut against his sheets like he's still in his thirteenth summer.

He feels his breaths grow heavier, and shifts, shifts until his head hangs off the bed. His airways constrict pleasantly and yes, yes, that is all he needs, his hand moving strongly against his cock, the other clenched in the sheets, eyes shut, pictures playing against his eyelids, of waves and fields and dark hair and an open mouth, until there are starbursts there and he's coming, spending onto his hand and stomach and sheets.

His chest heaves and he sits up immediately, the air rushing back into his lungs with a hiss, his eyes opening wide, sweat prickling at his hairline. He feels most indubitably, most indelicately, and most gloriously _alive_.

\---

'Sire…'

Arthur feels, rather than hears, the word, as warm air wafts across the back of his neck. Unbidden, his body curls into the pillows with a shudder. He covers with a grumble: 'Merlin, whatever it is, it's too early for it.'

He can imagine Merlin's insufferable grin, imagines him filled with damnable energy while Arthur's hiding under his covers like a child.

He's startled when hot air splays against his neck once more. He doesn't dare move, doesn't react, doesn't reach up, is certain if he does it will prove be a trick of his mind, running through his fingers like smoke.

He schools the air in his lungs, arranges his face appropriately, and sits up. He sees just what he expected: his manservant bustling about as he should be, nattering on as he always does…

Except that when he turns, Arthur sees a flash of amusement in his eyes, of mischief, of understanding, on his face. It's gone nearly instantly, Merlin's mouth instead open and filling up the room with words like always.

Well, Arthur thinks. This manservant may not be as useless as he seems.

A most jumbled coil, indeed.

 

07.

Kink(s): powerplay, public sex, non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Gwen/Mordred  
Warning(s): Spoilers for S5, adult Mordred

He remembers her not so long ago. The daughter of a servant to the King—a blacksmith by trade—her hands still chaff from years of working as maidservant to then Lady Morgana now turn rogue. A queen standing regally before him as her devoted husband taps him on the shoulders naming him one of his to serve at the round table.

The smile creases her lips oh so slightly when her eyes bear their full weight and focus on him. Her voice no louder than a whisper when she speaks to him in private, words coming from her lips, tickling against his ear, she breathes soothingly, “Trust in me,” as she pulls him into a narrow alcove just off the main passageway to the kitchen. Her finger presses to his lips as he stifles a protest, “this is a secret we can share together.”

Secrets are no new thing to the newly made knight. With threats on his life for practicing what he was born to be, Mordred knows the risk, but the feel of those calloused hands on his lips tracing down the length of his jawline, fingering along the outline of his Pendragon sigil, bringing his arousal to full mast as she leaves him wanting more, traipsing faint kisses along his jaw, murmuring softly in his ear.

“You are my husband’s knight, but you must protect your queen,” she places his hands on her hips, ordering in that gentle way of hers, “and I order you to protect me from wandering eyes.”

Heat radiating off his palms permeates from his Queen’s body, she is giving him power, but she has all of it. His head shakes with uncertainty as he says, “I don’t think we should be doing this, your Grace.”

“Please,” she coos, kissing him again ever so gently, tugging on his smallclothes, “your Grace is what you would refer my husband. My name is Guinevere.” She pulls him further into the alcove, little resistance given to need.

Her lips crushing against his as she tries to get more from him, the resolve not to touch his King’s Queen losing as her tongue slides along the ridge of his lips uninhibited; she removes him from the constraints of his smallclothes, bending on her knees, taking him full in her mouth. Slowly, she hums, bounces her head as she sheathes his sword deeply in and out. With him good and ready, she removes her mouth from him and lifts up her skirts, showing him how wet she is.

Gwen smiles as she fingers herself, “Your queen is waiting, good sir, Knight. Come protect me.”

For a half a second, he couldn’t think straight, this beautiful, dark skinned woman. He pulls Gwen closer to him, legs wrapping around his waist, entering her wet folds—queen be damned—her back arching as she squeezed his member gently. The pull only making him harder as she nibbles once more on his ear, whispering, “Come and be with me,” her legs constricting him, squeezing him as he spills himself inside his wanton queen. Pumping a good three times before unloading again, he pulls out and notices the dribble down her leg before he sees the remnants still on his cock.

Her mouth angling once again to swallow him, grinning as she comes back up, cups her hand over him finishing him off, “My knight will come and protect me again tonight when my husband leaves for his hunting trip.”

Her eyes did not joke around. She gave him a tap on his out of the alcove.

His body was ready. 

 

08.

Kink(s): tentacles, voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Morgana/Gwen, Arthur/Gwen  
Warning(s): dub-con, restraint, breathplay

**XVI: The Tower**

It starts normally enough. Gwen is barely upright, dozing in an uncomfortable chair by Morgana's bed, a torn tunic lying half-mended in her slack hands. A burnt-out candle on the side table tells the tale: poor, faithful Gwen, sitting up by Morgana's bed to watch over her troubled dreams.

A dream, an old one. She remembers how this went. Gwen would never presume on their closeness to climb in, no matter how tired she was, laugh with embarrassed shyness no matter how many times Morgana told her she was welcome. So meek, so proper, until Arthur annoyed her into courage, bent her from her orbit around Morgana.

In reality, Morgana would stay silent and let Gwen snatch what rest she could. But here she sees herself rise and gather Gwen into her arms, easing her from the chair to lie down on the bed, warm and yielding against her body.

But this is a dream, and she is in control here. If she had dared then, she would have loosened Gwen's clothes, to make her more comfortable, and Gwen would sigh, dreaming, and turn, melting softly against Morgana as she wakes. So she does, and yes...

Gwen smiles, sinking back into sleep as Morgana's heart races with her own daring. She rests her palm on Gwen's soft cheek, marvelling as Gwen nuzzles into it. A whisper in her ear - _touch her, sister, she is yours_ \- Morgana hesitates, confused. But Gwen sighs again, breath sweet, and Morgana cannot resist, letting her fingers sink into the thick, lively curls as she's always wanted.

Like a living creature, the hair resists her at first, then snares and tangles her fingers, and she laughs, coiling a lock around her forefinger.

Then it tightens, and while Morgana stares, Gwen's hair seems to grow longer, into a writhing serpentine mass that wraps around her and drags her backwards, away from Gwen. She struggles uselessly against the black strands cutting painfully into her wrists and reaching around her neck and ankles, slipping inexorably under her clothes to bind her all over, as though she were a fly being wrapped by a spider.

Morgana opens her mouth to call Gwen, because surely this nightmare would stop if only Gwen woke, Gwen would never push her away like this - _but she already has, sister_ \- and Morgana remembers, one morning, Gwen and Arthur by a window, starting apart guiltily.

Then Arthur is there, in her bed with Gwen, who smiles up at him while the mad tangle of hair drags him in.

Their clothes fall away, and Arthur, golden and bowing over Gwen's body, bends to bite at Gwen's soft lips and down to her slim neck, while his hands, guided by taut puppet strings, run greedily over Gwen's breasts as Gwen moans wantonly, clutching at him with clawed hands and treacherous entangling locks. Gwen spreads her legs - It should have been her, Gwen was hers first - Morgana swallows outrage, and as Gwen's hair ripples and tightens around her, she realises it has become harder to draw breath, and the dark strands are cutting into her soft skin, pinching her where she is most sensitive.   
Pain, and a strange tingling urgency spreads inside her as she struggles for air, and she can't decide if she wants to rub against the knife-sharp strands or flinch away, and she is panting in time to Arthur's wet thrusts into Gwen - she feels like an intruder and she feels like she is fucking them, and something breaks inside her in a bright flash of agony and shocked pleasure when Gwen wails her completion, and Morgana cries out as Arthur does.

 

09.

Kink(s): double penetration, sort of voyeurism, rimming, orgy aw yis~  
Pairing(s): Arthur/EVERYONE (but mostly Merlin and Percy. And Gwaine. And Lance). Knights/Knights :DDD  
Warning(s): bottom!Arthur, if that upsets someone... also BAD PORN

This had escalated pretty quickly, Leon thought in the middle of the act. 

Or maybe someone said it? He had no idea. 

All he could think about right now was the way Arthur’s lips looked around Merlin’s cock, the sounds both made, how devoted and desperate the young fresher looked, so eager to get it all. His mind was spinning out of control, probably because of the many shots they took, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter as long as Arthur kept exposing his pretty pink ass and kept sucking everyone’s dick.

This wasn’t the plan at first—they were all just down to get a few drinks and watch the match, but Arthur had lost it really quickly. How much? Four shots?

Merlin groaned, grabbing Arthur’s hair and pulling at it, looking suggestively at Gwaine, who had just left his bottle on the table. The latter grinned and stood up, walked in their direction and lifted Arthur’s bum.

They all groaned—the man really had an _awesome_ backside. Arthur whimpered a little when Gwaine started rubbing at his hole, pressing but not yet entering. He massaged the beautiful bum and went down on his knees, groaning unreservedly when he caught sight of Arthur’s hole, and going straight at it, lapping enthusiastically. Arthur moaned, and Leon’s cock was _in pain_. 

He started kissing Percival at some point, stroking him feverishly. When he turned back his attention Arthur was already sucking Lance’s dick, Merlin and Gwaine taking turns at spitting and lapping at the blonde’s entrance. Leon suddenly wanted to participate, especially after watching the way Arthur’s hips buckled at their stimulations. Percival seemed to be thinking the same way, for he simply stood up and went there as well, but instead of lapping he fucked him with his tongue, Arthur’s strangled cries vibrating through Lance’s dick. 

It was too much.

Leon looked at Elyan, so seemed to be in some sort of trance, and pushed him against the couch, snogging him senselessly. His friend pushed him away softly, only to dove down and take him in his mouth. _Yes_ , Leon thought approvingly, as Elyan worked his way with his dick, licking and sucking and taking him all the way in. There was a cry beside them, and when he turned he found Merlin sprawled on the bed, Arthur—young, supposedly _straight_ Arthur—taking him in and moaning deliciously. Leon couldn’t place their young, eager and somewhat naïve friend as Arthur jumped up and down, rolling his hips like an expert and saying the naughtiest things. He arched his back and looked at Percival, whose eyes were shining with intent. He accommodated Arthur and bent him a little, Merlin moaning something intangible. Gwaine climbed to the bed and crawled his way until his dick was floating above Merlin’s face.

Arthur howled when Percy found his way in, Merlin arched at the new sensation, drawing cries from the blond. Percy fucked him senselessly; Merlin couldn’t move at all, for the friction and tightness was killing him. Leon watched, fascinated, as Gwaine all but pushed his dick inside Merlin’s mouth, positioning himself in an awkward angle, and bending to get his cock in and out. 

Then Arthur started making some very unhuman noises as Percy dug deeper and deeper, and Merlin moaned around Gwaine’s cock as he felt the pressure. Leon was so entrance by the view that he didn’t notice when Lance joined him and Elyan, licking at his nipples and toying with Elyan’s hair. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Arthur, whose head was lolling up and down, and his bum, who was being so mercilessly fucked by their broader—and older—friend. 

Arthur cried out Merlin’s name, then, and came all over him, as Gwaine fucked his face and murmured his name as well. Leon kept looking at Arthur, though, at the way his whole body relaxed and looked so utterly _fucked_ , Percy still thrusting. 

He came all over Elyan, who didn’t mind swallowing it all, and groaned.

Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.

 

10.

Kink(s): non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): reincarnated Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): none, really.

They'd shifted around each other for months trying to get a rise out of one another. Their interactions faded from hostile words to grudging respect before they finally shifted into a fond tease that left him aching for the human's presence.

His last interaction with his older self had left him with more questions than answers. All he knew was that he and this man were apparently destined for great things. He didn't like the lack of emotional control the human brought out in him.  
\--

Their hands brushed accidentally as he was handed a tricorder and pain flooded his body. Rapid flashes of memories that were not his filled his vision. He heard himself scream an unfamiliar name as he passed out from the agony.

He awoke in the medical bay the bright lights making him wince in pain.

"Who's Arthur?" said a voice to the left.

He glanced over in confusion and everything suddenly clicked into place.

"You are Arthur," he said to Jim, "and evidently, I am Merlin," Spock said. He grimaced from the pain.

"Like the old Earth legend? Damn, Spock. How hard did you hit your head when you fell?" Jim replied.

"Not hard enough or I would have forgotten all of this. Look, I do not understand exactly why it happened now but when we brushed hands I was suddenly confronted with all these memories of lives past lived. Jim, we have been together for several millennia. Never with our original names but we have always been friends." Spock explained slowly.

"That's insane, Spock. I'm calling Bones, we need to get you checked for cerebral trauma," Jim said.

"No. Wait." Spock commanded and grabbed Jim's sleeve to keep him in place. "If you allow me to meld my mind to yours, I can show you."

Jim looked uncertain for several moments before he inclined his head slightly in permission. Spock placed his fingers along Jim's temple and allowed him to see what Spock had. He was careful to not overwhelm the human, but Jim's hand came up to cup Spock's own face and the damn was broken. Suddenly all he could think of were all the passionate embraces they had once shared and he projected them into Jim's mind in rapid succession.

Spock tried to close the connection but Jim passed out before he managed it.

"What happened to him, you hobgoblin?" Dr McCoy shouted as he rushed over to Jim.

"He will be fine. His mind is simply a little overexerted. I'll be going to my quarters now. Send Jim along when he wakes up," Spock said. He had to focus to keep from running out of the room and his face from showing his emotions.  
\--  
The computer alerted him that Jim was outside and Spock took a moment to compose himself before he opened the door.

"So, I’m your soulmate and you can't even be bothered to wait near my bed for me to wake up?" Jim teased.

"I did not think I would be welcome after I let you get so overloaded," he replied.

"Bullshit," Jim cursed. He grabbed Spock's shoulders and pushed him against the wall and clashed their lips together.

Spock nearly had the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. None of this was logical. He relaxed into the hold instead and parted his lips to allow the tongue pushing against them entrance. They stood there like hormonal teenagers for several minutes before Jim pulled himself away.

"Stupid Vulcan," Jim said. Spock could not retort to the jibe because Jim's hands were suddenly against his own and their fingers were stroking together in a way that made Spock's thoughts fuzzy and full of lust.

Jim dropped to his knees and sucked the fingers of one hand into his mouth. He continued caressing the other and Spock did not whimper. He gasped as the sensations dazed him and his entire body tensed in pleasure.

When he came back to himself, Jim was standing next to him with their hands still firmly clasped together.

"Let's see what else your hands can do, Magic Man," Jim grinned.

"I am not going to start calling you my king," Spock stated before Jim got any other ideas.

"Oh, we'll see," Jim said and distracted him with another kiss.

 

11.

 

Kink(s): voyeurism, double penetration, cuckolding  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Gwen/Merlin

Arthur has stopped pacing, and is sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, next to the table that has directions for how to use the wi-fi on it.

They look like a pair of teenagers more than anything, both flushed and with eyes sparkling. Merlin is terribly pretty, he can admit that as a straight man, and he can see why Gwen likes him. He emanates a kind of humble confidence, his hand on Gwen's breast as if it belongs there. Arthur wonders why on earth Merlin would want to seduce other men's wives, if it's just for fun or a kink of some kind. Arthur hates himself more for the fact that he couldn't just have a threesome like a normal person, that it's having this rubbed in his face that gets him off. 

"Take your clothes off," Arthur says hoarsely. "Both of you. Leave your underwear on."

He watches as Merlin kisses Gwen's neck. He tells Merlin that she likes her collarbones sucked on. Gwen grins at him over his dark head, and he smiles back, feeling good. He presses his hand against his needy cock, smearing precum against his skin, standing over them.

Merlin circles Gwen's nipples and pinches before Arthur can tell him that no, Gwen doesn't like it so rough, but she moans and bucks her hips, and Arthur feels his face heat. What if Merlin is better than him? If Gwen prefers him? Merlin moves his leg between Gwen's, letting her ride against his hip, and Arthur fumbles his trousers open, his cock slotting into his hand.

Suddenly Gwen rolls them, pushing up to sit atop Merlin's hips, grinding determinedly against him. Her breath is hitching in that familiar cadence that Arthur knows means that Gwen is close to orgasm.

"Yeah, that's it," Merlin grunts, his eyes fixed on Gwen's face. His hands grip her bottom and a small part of Arthur wants to punch him but mostly, desperately, he wants to see him fucking her.

Gwen comes with a yelp, and Merlin pulls her down for a kiss.

"Gwen," Arthur says, when he can't stand it any more. Gwen looks up slowly, dazed, her face soft and satisfied. Merlin's face has a desperate edge that matches Arthur's own, and Arthur looks him in the eye as he says - 

"Fuck him." His heart is pounding with something like dread and euphoria. "Fuck him now."

Merlin is the one with the presence of mind to retrieve condoms and lube from the bedside table. Gwen gets up and embraces Arthur without warning, and he melts into her, telling her how beautiful she is, how much he worships her. They are both breathing a little easier, when she releases him and they turn in unison to see Merlin skinning out of his briefs, freeing his enormous, veined cock.

"Oh my God," Gwen says involuntarily, "I thought - I mean, I felt it but I didn't think it was really THAT big."

Just like that Arthur's head is ringing and he is back in that place, that shame building in his stomach, and goosebumps breaking out on his skin. He can't help but compare them, can't help but feel both horrified and turned on by it, and he really can't wait to see that cock going into Gwen's cunt.

Merlin looks both pleased and embarrassed, pumping himself in a blatant display and Gwen crawls up the bed, sinuous, and licks his shaft, making Merlin gasp. Arthur reaches out and pulls down her panties. He lets his fingers play in her wetness as he watches Gwen work her magic on Merlin's cock.

It's a blur from there, Gwen sliding onto Merlin's condom-sheathed cock and riding him while Arthur rubs himself against her, touches them both, his hands sliding down to feel the place where they're connected.

"Yes, please Arthur," Gwen cries, as Arthur's hand slides over her clitoris and he plays with her until she shudders, spasming, the wet obscene sound of Merlin pushing into her. Arthur slicks his fingers in her fluids and pushes into her arse, the pulsing heat and tightness a thin barrier between his hand and the rampant wild flesh of Merlin's cock. He hooks his chin over Gwen's shoulder, watching Merlin.

"Gwen," Merlin moans and speeds up, "Arthur."

Arthur ejaculates in crease of Gwen's thigh, their cries mingling in his ears, his cock rubbing against her labia and his testicles, wanting to smear himself all over them both.

 

12.

Kinks: public sex, some power play   
pairing: Arthur/Merlin  
warnings: none aside from those related to the kinks featured 

Arthur booked them into the hotel as Mr. Harding and Mr. Willing, which is really just the tackiest choice to date, but Arthur seemed outlandishly proud about the whole thing. So Merlin only teased him about it a little. He'd made a point of calling Arthur Mr. Harding in a mocking tone as they pulled the masks over their eyes, but that had only backfired, truth be told. 

”Are you insinuating that you're Willing?” Arthur said, eyed glinting. 

And he was, of course. He always is. Merlin is the one who spreads himself put in front of the camera, fucking himself on his own fingers until he's slick and panting, knowing that people are watching him ready himself for Arthur's cock. 

He likes preparing himself, slowly pumping his fingers in and out as he studies Arthur, looking at his broad chest and the hand wrapped tight on his thick cock. He knows that people are watching, wishing it was them being stretched by it, fantasising about Arthur holding them down and fucking them. 

Sometimes he reads their emails out loud to Arthur until they're so far gone they just rut against each other, coming in a slippery mess between them.   
Merlin looks at the camera settled on the stand by the hotel bed, parting his legs wider. He's on display, completely, and the familiar rush of lust makes his dick twitch against his stomach. 

There's a certain frame of mind they both enter into when they do this. It's not like when they have sex in private, where they whisper and touch and laugh, fucking lazily or hurriedly depending on he mood. This is always so intense and there's little room for the private little things. 

Merlin moves down from the bed, careful not to slip out of the camera frame as he slips to his knees in front of Arthur, nuzzling against his hard cock with a content little hum. Arthur's fingers tangle in his hair with the telltale roughness. This is a show as much as it is for them alone . 

Taking Arthur into his mouth, Merlin opens his lips wide, letting Arthur push him down with a hand cradled at the back of his head. He breathes deeply, taking as much of Arthur as he can, knowing exactly how it looks when his lips are stretched wide around Arthur's cock. 

He keeps his hands on his own thighs, relaxing his jaw as Arthur starts to fuck his mouth, cock dragging over Merlin's tongue in steady strokes. Merlin can feel their eyes on him, knowing that they're watching his lips being used until they're red and swollen. 

They wear masks that cover half their face, they never stream anything from either of their flats, but there's still a risk. It wouldn't be impossible for someone to recognise Merlin's lips or the general shape of them. 

But that thought has always made it more intense. 

Arthur's eyes are hooded behind the mask as they watch him, his mouth slack as he seems entirely blissed out by watching his dick disappear into Merlin's mouth. 

The fucking is fast and rough. Merlin doesn't bother holding back his increasingly loud moans as Arthur nearly folds him in half, fucking him open and raw. He knows his hole is on display from behind as it takes the thickness of Arthur, clutching him in and clinging to him. 

”Couple hundred tonight,” Arthur mutters into his neck, sweat from his forehead damp on Merlin's skin. 

Merlin arches up at that, pushing into Arthur's rhythm until they both shout from how fucking perfect it feels. 

”They all want to fuck you. Fuck, they all love the way you look fucked out and claimed.” 

His mind going completely blank, Merlin goes rigid and spills himself between them, some of the come hitting his chin. 

\---  
They read emails the next Saturday and Merlin fucks Arthur over the back of the couch until he sobs. 

 

13.

_Stand (so close to me)_

Kinks: tentacles, teacher/student relationship  
Pairing: Gwen/Morgana  
Warnings: AU; never specified if student is underage

 

Gwen knows she should have seen this coming. She _has_ seen it coming, has seen it all year, and maybe she should care more about the consequences but...

But Morgana is all soft curves and sharp angles in her arms. But Gwen, when it comes down to it, has never been able to deny herself for long. But if there were any lines left to cross, in truth she razed them to the ground months ago. 

She's not reckless about it—the doors to her classroom are shut, the windows darkened with the thoughts she holds firm in the back corner of her mind—but she's drowning nonetheless, swept away in the fury of Morgana's kisses. She kisses back, buries her hands in the thickness of Morgana's hair and pulls her close while Morgana caresses her, tentacles stroking down her shoulders and her spine, each touch a promise.

“We shouldn't—” she whispers, but Morgana only tightens her hold. 

“This is all I've wanted all year,” Morgana whispers, lips brushing the shell of Gwen's ear. “All I've wanted _every_ year, sitting in your classroom, listening to you go on about ethics and telekinesis, wondering with every lecture what else you might do with your mouth—”

“Jesus,” Gwen says, faintly. Morgana smiles slow. She has one hand cupped over the side of Gwen's neck, the other laid over Gwen's breastbone. Two tentacles twist delicately around Gwen's wrists, another coming up to brush stray hair back from her face; Gwen can't help but reach out for them, running her fingers up to where they meet and fuse just under Morgana's arms. They're softer than skin, pale enough that Gwen can trace the veins in them threading through the muscles. Morgana wraps one around her waist, pulling at her wrists to draw her close. 

“Please,” Morgana murmurs, and Gwen swallows, shuts her eyes. She nods. 

“I've wanted to see you,” Morgana says, her words muffled now against the skin of Gwen's neck. She runs her teeth along Gwen's collarbone, and Gwen tips her head back, shrugging her shoulders out of her cardigan as Morgana draws it off. “Wanted so badly to lay you out on your desk, Professor—” Gwen can't help the guttural noise she makes at that. God, she knows she should stop this, knows it isn't right for her pulse to thrum when Morgana calls her that, but Morgana has a hand under her shirt now, fingers pressing up beneath her bra.

She's moving back now, Morgana steering until Gwen stumbles, falling back against the wall. “Want to make you scream,” Morgana whispers, and Gwen kisses her again. Gwen's shirt is open, and Morgana is everywhere, thumbs working carefully over Gwen's nipples while she strokes her tentacles up under Gwen's skirt, teasing along her inner thighs. 

Gwen curses when Morgana brushes against her panties, and Morgana hisses through her teeth. 

“Can I? Please, Professor—”

There's an uncertainty in her voice which undoes Gwen completely. She gives in.

Morgana isn't shy, curling the tapered end of a tentacle around the scalloped edge of Gwen's underwear. Another teases at her navel, and Gwen shudders at the touch, biting her lip as Morgana's tiny strokes grow closer to the wet between Gwen's legs, tickling her pubic hair before she runs one smooth tip over Gwen's clitoris.

Gwen gasps, he knees buckling before she digs her fingers hard into Morgana's shoulders, fighting to stay upright. “Fuck.”

Morgana doesn't stop moving, all four tentacles moving over Gwen's body, two wrapped warm and tight around her arms. The tentacle between her legs pushes forward infinitesimally, and Gwen gasps again. “Just ask,” Morgana whispers. “Please, all you have to—”

Gwen clenches her fingers more tightly, the cloth of Morgana's blazer wrinkling in her grip. She brings a knee up, hooking her leg over Morgana's hip, heedless of the way her skirt rides up. “Going to make me beg? Oh, fuck.”

The tentacle slips inside her easily, but Morgana doesn't push her advantage; she lingers, teasing at the entrance, pushing one hand down to rub a finger against the slippery skin. 

“Fuck, Morgana, please—”

“Yes,” Morgana hisses, and pushes in with one smooth motion, twisting the tentacle until Gwen curses again, choked. “Dreamed about this—”

“More,” Gwen manages. “I need—”

The tentacle twists again, all muscle and hot skin, and all of Gwen's insides twist with it. She's lost.

 

14.

Kink(s): tattoo, non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

Arthur felt nimble fingers tracing softly over his lower stomach. Merlin’s head was tucked beneath his chin, their legs tangled as they lay comfortably on the settee and Arthur, as per their night rituals would read aloud the papers.

They were both silent. Both watching Merlin’s fingers trace the black ink embedded on his skin, and Arthur felt delicious tingles running up his spine. He always does whenever Merlin does that. And in return, Arthur drew lazy circles on Merlin’s bare shoulder, the papers already forgotten, and they just lie there in silence, touching each other.

There was something thrilling about seeing the ink on Arthur’s skin. How Arthur, well brought up, all proper and posh, fancy flat and cars, clean and pristine, well educated, and then you get him naked and there’s that bloody tattoo on his stomach. And it drives Merlin mad how it just contrasts with who Arthur really is, and yet it defines him too. And it’s just really, really hot. 

Also it’s so cliché for a Pendragon to get a dragon tattooed on his body. Merlin remembers Morgana’s matching one on her lower back. Not that he was watching, but Morgana was wearing really scantily that night at the club and Merlin just happened to catch a glimpse of it.

Merlin smiled as he felt the rumble of Arthur’s chest, humming softly, loving his touches, and planted a chaste kiss there, over his heart. 

“Getting all soft now, are we?” Arthur teased. His fingers now tangled in the mess of Merlin’s hair, massaging the scalp, guiding him towards a wet open-mouthed kiss. 

When they parted, Merlin grinned widely and scrambled up to straddle Arthur, pinning his arms back onto the settee beneath them, his eyes playful. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you how soft I can be.”

Arthur’s chuckle shook their bodies slightly as Merlin started lathering kisses all over his face, teasing him with exaggerated wet sounds. The chuckle turned into approving hums when Merlin started going lower, nipping at soft skins; neck, earlobe, collarbone.

Arthur let out a gasp, followed by a short breathy laugh when he felt teeth nipping playfully at his chest; Merlin likes to fondle him, and Arthur lets him have his way because he isn’t really one to complain. He gave a full-body shudder when he felt a wet tongue licking at his nipple, and moaned when he felt Merlin’s hot mouth around it, sucking rather enthusiastically.

It felt really good. Arthur had his eyes closed; his body lax as he let Merlin touch him and kiss him, but then he yelped when lips and tongue were replaced by sharp teeth clamping over his sensitive buds.

“Ow!” He swatted Merlin’s head lightly, glaring when Merlin only grinned at him, not at all sorry.

Merlin leaned up and clamped their mouths together, their kisses suddenly more desperate; it was all tongues and teeth, it was bloody brilliant. Arthur grunted in protest when Merlin pulled away again, going down back on the same path, his jaw, his neck, down to his chest. Only, this time Merlin skipped pass his nipples and started kissing lower, to his stomach; dipping his tongue briefly at Arthur’s navel, revelling in the soft moans he elicited. 

With the tip of his tongue, Merlin traced the tattoo. Starting from the pointed tail curling slightly around the navel, up along the length of it, the detailed scales on the body, to the amazing fire breath that stopped right above Arthur’s hipbone. Arthur thrust his hips in the air in a knee-jerk reflex, needing friction but not exactly desperate for it; content with the way Merlin’s taking care of him. Both hands on Arthur’s hips, to keep him from moving, Merlin went back to marvelling the dragon, sucking everywhere, like he couldn’t get enough. 

Merlin is obsessed with that tattoo; mainly because it’s a piece of art and it looks really good on Arthur, and also because he loves the sounds Arthur makes whenever he gives extra attention to it, pointedly ignoring the obvious tent of their trousers around the crotch area. And also because it would always lead to awesome sex and extremely gratifying orgasms; it’s Arthur’s way of paying back for all the sexual frustration. Merlin isn’t exactly complaining. It’s a win-win situation.

 

15.

Kink(s): power play, tattooing, voyeurism (of a third person)  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur,   
Warning(s): D/s themes, slave Merlin, 

“Is the ink ready Gaius?” Arthur asked, after completing a full rotation around the young man kneeling on the stone floor, eyes downcast, a result of years of training.

“Yes sire, all I need is a bit of your blood, and then we can start the ritual. The blood in the ink will bind him, and his magic, to you.”

“Blood?” Arthur eye's never left the young man kneeling at his feet.

“Well, any body fluid would do. Many use a few drops of blood,” Gaius explained picking up a small bowl and needle from the table. “I'll just make a small pin prick-“

“That won’t be necessary Gaius.” Arthur grabbed the chin of the young man, tilting his head, forcing eye contact “Merlin, right? Did your elders tell you why I choose you, out of the entire group of eligible warlocks?” The barest of nods was felt by Arthur's fingers. “Why?”

“You want more than a warlock bound to you, for their magic. You want ...everything.”

“I was told you are loyal, and have a willingness to please. I think it's time to try out your need to satisfy.”

Merlin's hands were slow and a little shaky, but he didn't hesitate in opening the fastening to Arthur's breaches, pulling out his soft cock. Merlin took the wordless instruction, like a young man facing his first battle, nervous but determined at the same time.

Arthur felt the warning breath of heated air, before the hot moist tongue, ran up the side of his cock. Arthur steadied his reactions; it would not do good losing control when establishing his dominance over his new pet. 

Merlin's movements were sloppy and unskilled. His actions were all over the spectrum; too hard, too soft, not enough pressure, too wet. Arthur could have gotten better service from a toothless crone, but the feel of complete power over a person with such magical talents as Merlin, was an aphrodisiac in itself, knowing that his new pet was inexperienced, and could be molded however Arthur saw fit, was an extra treat.

Holding Merlin's head in his hands, Arthur stilled Merlin’s moments, “Open wide and please your king.”

Arthur thrust in quick jabbing motions, pushing Merlin's gag reflects to the limit. With some training Merlin would be able to take him deeper. It was one of the many things Merlin will learn in Arthur's bed. But for now the feeling of Merlin’s throat tightening around the head of his cock, was enough to push Arthur's control over the edge. 

“Gaius, bring the bowl,” Arthur command sliding his cock out of Merlin's mouth, spunk dribbling over his lips. 

Scoping any excess into the bowl, Gaius walked back to his work station, adding the herbal ink, stirring the mixture. “Where would you like me to place your mark, sire?”

“Right here,” Arthur turned Merlin's wrist over, exposing the soft underside. Merlin's skin was so pale that the black ink from the tattoo would stand out for anyone to see, even across a room. 

“Hold his arm sire,” Gaius instructed, pulling the ink soaked thread out of the bowl, wrapping it around the needle.

Watching Gaius work with careful precision, Arthur mused over the idea of forbidding Merlin from wearing anything that would cover his wrist. He wanted his ownership known.

 

16.

Kink(s): power play, body modification   
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

“But can’t you just give me _one_ bath, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur said, pout in full-force.

“Arthur, I just don’t have time-- I have work, I have to clean and cook-- I showed you how to use the shower, use that! It does all the work for you!”

Arthur smirked, taking his clothes off and standing in the middle of the house. “I don’t like the ‘shower’. I’d like a bath. Please.”

Merlin turned away from the stove and startled, dropping his cooking spoon. “What are you-- you can’t just stand around naked like that!’

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” Arthur said with a satisfied smirk, feeling his erection grow as Merlin’s eyes trailed downwards. 

“Arthur, go take a shower yourself, do not make me--”

“Make you _what_ , Merlin?” Arthur asked with a challenging eyebrow-raise. “You can’t do anything to me.”

He really shouldn’t have said that.

Merlin was suddenly snapping his fingers, making the oven-thing turn off, stalking over to him, eyes narrowed, shoulders slightly hunched over as though he were targeting his prey. Arthur stood there in awe, arousal and a hint of fear at the golden hue of Merlin’s eyes, swirling around the blue and making for a very sexy look. He was so very glad they had started sleeping together ever since Arthur had been reincarnated. It made life so much better. Not that Gwen hadn’t been very accommodating of course but--it was Merlin. 

“Arthur?” Merlin said, grabbing Arthur’s attention back with a slightly concerned look on his face now. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yes? What?” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and suddenly pounced on Arthur, both of them falling backwards onto the couch with a loud _thump_. 

“You think I can’t do anything to you? You’re very wrong,” Merlin said in a husky tone, sitting up and straddling Arthur’s waist. 

“Well I don’t know about that--” Arthur was interrupted when he felt a tug on his throat as his voice was silenced with Merlin’s magic. He gaped at Merlin, who was now smirking down at him. 

“I can do plenty to you, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin chuckled, eyes flashing gold again. Arthur’s arms were now pinned to his sides, legs magically bound over the arm of the chair. He struggled, eyes widening and tried to yell at Merlin in vain.

“You’re no longer King Arthur, my love,” Merlin grinned, stretching slightly as he took off his shirt and grabbed what looked like a writing utensil from the coffee table. “You’re nothing but mine now.” 

Arthur struggled again at the bonds but noticed he was hard as a rock. It was extremely sexy, being bound by Merlin’s magic. He squirmed under Merlin’s weight but that only made Merlin laugh. 

“You’re so sexy all helpless for me,” Merlin said softly, caressing Arthur’s chest with the marker. “All wide-eyed and bound, craving my every touch. I should have done this sooner.”

He uncapped the top of the marker and smirked at Arthur. “You’ve been walking around like you own the place, but you forget how I. own. you.”

Arthur swallowed thickly as he stared at Merlin, who was... he was bloody gorgeous. Powerful and fae-like, mischievous. He was youthful but his eyes were so wise, golden and could always control Arthur like this, but he only chose to do so now, when Arthur was _liking_ it. He could carve Arthur apart and put him back together and Arthur would follow helplessly, loving every moment of it. 

“You need to be reminded of your place, Pendragon.” Merlin pressed the marker to Arthur’s chest. Arthur squirmed, feeling so awkward and helpless but his cock was twitching, spurting pre-come already. He felt Merlin writing something but he couldn’t make sense of it when he looked down. 

“Perfect,” Merlin smiled widely, getting off Arthur and crawling down, immediately pressing his mouth against Arthur’s cock. Arthur’s hips flew off the couch as Merlin sucked him down, cheeks hollowing. 

It wasn’t until _much_ later, when Arthur was about to get into the shower with Merlin that he saw what Merlin had written in the bathroom mirror. He tilted his head, not understanding it because it was backwards. 

“Merlin, what does it say?” Arthur asked. 

Merlin chuckled and snapped his fingers, the mirror displaying in reverse now. Arthur gasped when he saw the words on his chest, cock hardening once more. _Merlin’s whore._

 

17.

Kink: power play, public sex, voyeurism   
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): mild(?) BDSM

When Merlin said he would do anything for Arthur, he didn’t know at the time that it would come to this. Hot, sweaty, and panting something awful, he must have looked a mess. 

Not that Merlin himself could see a damn thing with a blindfold on. 

It was that blindfold that held the scene together. It kept Merlin from thinking too hard about how there were really a lot of people in the room right now; people kissing, fondling each other, or just staring outright at himself and Arthur fucking on the center stage of the sex club. Merlin could hear them; soft shuffles and moans of other couples (or threesomes, or moresomes) engaging in their own sexual exploits. Brow furrowing, Merlin thought he could hear the telltale ‘fap, fap’ of an appreciative audience member, and-

“Pay attention to me.” Arthur’s voice was low but hard, startling Merlin a little. “They’re not important,” he said, thrusting into Merlin with what felt like possession “I’m showing them how much I own you.” 

Pleasure spiked through Merlin as Arthur ran a hand down his spine. Merlin gripped the desk he was splayed over a little tighter, feeling the businesses-like tie Arthur was wearing follow the path his hand had taken. It was true that he had been nervous when Arthur had first suggested they do a scene for the sex club they belonged to, but that had evaporated once Merlin had been told point-blank that it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. 

“You’re wandering again” Arthur said. Merlin felt himself clench around Arthur involuntarily, anticipating punishment. 

“It won’t happen again, sir,” Merlin felt himself whisper. Nevertheless, Arthur’s hand came hard down on his backside, ringing out as a moan from amongst the watching crowd. 

“See that it doesn’t.” Arthur replied. 

Merlin arched his back as Arthur increased the tempo. The suits they were wearing were soaked with sweat, sticking to one another as Merlin began to thrust back against Arthur in time. It wasn’t long until Merlin had forgotten the crowd completely; it was just him and Arthur, his prudish boss giving in to his base urges and fulfilling his desires, taking Merlin to the nearest office to fuck over the nearest desk. Merlin smiled, pleasure rising in him like the morning sun. He was Arthur’s, completely, and everyone in the club watching knew it. No one else had ever commanded Merlin to do something like this, and nobody else ever would. 

“Arthur,” Merlin groaned “Arthur, I’m-”

rather than finishing his sentence, Merlin came, arching his back like a cat. Arthur said nothing, but Merlin felt him tense and his thrusts stutter. The moans of the people around them grew louder, but Merlin could still hear Arthur’s breath, harsh with effort as they came together. Groaning again as Arthur pulled out, Merlin sighed, content. He felt the crowd relax around the stage. 

CRACK. Merlin jumped in time with the audience as Arthur stabbed a letter opener onto the desk drawer. 

“Remember _this_ next time you come into my office,” he said, dragging Merlin’s lax body up to standing “or next time I’ll remember that a tie makes a decent gag for your noisy mouth.”

Merlin smiled. He could make no promises, but when it came to Arthur, he would always try his best. 

 

18.

Kink(s): double penetration  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine  
Warning(s): None 

Merlin did hot kinky sex with a lot of people and here's 750 words about it. 

“Wait, wait,” Merlin says, hands skidding down the sweat-slick skin of Arthur's side. 

“What,” Arthur grinds out, looking over his shoulder. His fringe is plastered to his forehead and his face is flushed. Gwaine grunts somewhere behind Arthur, and Merlin can see his thighs tremble where Arthur's straddling them.

“I just – are you sure, Arthur?”

“Yes, just get on with it, will you?” Arthur demands. Merlin leans forward and kisses him. There's no hesitation in Arthur at all, and the rightness of it settles in the pit of Merlin's stomach.

“Ok, ok,” Merlin says, searching through the creases in the sheets for the lube. He finds it and bends Arthur forward, and he sees Gwaine's hands cup Arthur's neck. 

He slicks his fingers then pushes them against where Gwaine's cock is inside Arthur's body. He breaks out into a sweat, heart suddenly rabbiting at the thought of what he was about to do. He knew he and Gwaine weren't well endowed but he still wasn't sure how they were going to fit and fuck and he has to tug at his balls hard to pulls himself back from the edge. 

Merlin manages to force a finger inside. It's hot, so hot and _tight_. Arthur makes a high tight noise, and Merlin looks up. Arthur's face is buried in Gwaine's shoulder and Gwaine is panting, looking at Merlin with wide eyes. 

“Don't stop,” Gwaine says. Arthur's back heaves with the deep breaths he's taking. 

Merlin manages two fingers, and Arthur's relaxing around him. Merlin's shaking, blown away by what Arthur's prepared to give him and Gwaine. 

“Just do it, Merlin, please.” Arthur's voice is muffled by Gwaine's skin, but the message is clear enough. Merlin pulls his fingers out and slicks up his cock with what is probably too much lube but Merlin doesn't care. 

He shifts so he's kneeling between Gwaine's legs properly, and lines his cock up, resting against Gwaine's. He slides forward. 

The ring of muscle is almost painful against the head of Merlin's cock, but he keeps up a steady forward pressure until it just gives, all at once. 

Arthur makes a broken sound and Gwaine is swearing at the ceiling, hands scrabbling against the bedsheets. 

Merlin can't think. He's overwhelmed by everything – the tight heat of being inside Arthur, the feel of Gwaine's hardness against his, even the feel of Arthur's sweaty back against his chest is contributing to Merlin's growing pleasure. Merlin just breathes for a moment

So obviously, Gwaine moves before Merlin has a chance to get a hold of himself. The friction is unbearable and Arthur is shouting and Merlin comes so hard he blacks out for a moment. 

Merlin opens his eyes as Arthur forces himself into a sitting position.

“Out, out,” he's hissing, and Merlin blinks heavily, slowly pulling out. He groans at the last bit of friction against his oversensitive cock. 

He and Gwaine help Arthur up and down onto the bed. Merlin can see the evidence of Arthur's orgasm on his chest, and Merlin is upset he missed it. 

Merlin lies down next the other side of Arthur and they all pant up at the ceiling for a moment. 

“Bagsy next turn,” Gwaine croaks, making Merlin break out in hysterical laughter.

 

19.

Kink(s): power imbalance, bukkake  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

Merlin waited.

It didn't take long; Arthur sneaked into the guest chamber just an hour after the sun had set. His gait was awkward, but Merlin closed his eyes and imagined Arthur striding towards him with full confidence. When he opened them again, Arthur stood before him, his unlaced breeches at eye level. Merlin tilted his head up.

"It's funny," Arthur said, and even his voice sounded different. "Everybody keeps warning me to treat you right. You should have heard Gwaine this morning at training. I think he caught the way I looked at you."

Merlin swallowed and reached out, then hesitated. "What about--"

"Asleep. Don't worry, I took precautions. How often have we done this now?"

The last of Merlin's resistance crumbled, and he brought his hands to rest on Arthur's hips. He licked his lips and leaned forward, just to breathe in Arthur's scent, but he pulled away when it wasn't quite right. 

It didn't matter. For tonight, he had Arthur. He groaned when Arthur gripped his hair and pushed his face forward. 

"If I ordered you to suck me now, would you?"

Merlin almost laughed. "I would do anything for you right now." He let his magic undo the laces on Arthur's breeches until they hung loose enough to pull down. Under other circumstances, that would be dangerous, but it was dark enough, and his hands were close enough that it could be explained away.

He didn't wait for an order. He opened his mouth and tentatively licked Arthur's cock, reveled in that first hint of taste spreading across his tongue. It tasted like Arthur, because this was the only way he'd ever had Arthur. He wouldn't taste the same after training, he wouldn't taste the same after a bath. But just on these nights, Merlin could have him.

Merlin blew on the wet spot, slowly opened his mouth to take Arthur in. He closed his eyes and groaned as he felt Arthur begin to fill.

"I wish I could make you suck my cock every night." Arthur's voice was raspy now, and maybe not so different than it would have been under other circumstances.

It wasn't so hard to ignore what Arthur was saying. The way Arthur thrust his hips and the way he gripped Merlin's hair -- and oh, those fingers running over his scalp were sending shivers down Merlin's spine -- those were almost enough to make it seem _real_.

"Love the way you look. Keep sucking, em--" Arthur let out a shaky breath, " _Mer_ lin."

Oh. Merlin closed his eyes and wished Arthur would say his name like that in public, in front of the knights and in front of Gwen. He wanted Arthur to publicly claim him, to show the entire world how completely owned Merlin was.

He looked up, saw Arthur's gold-tinted eyes. That ruined everything. He nearly choked, pulled away just as Arthur came, and his seed splattered all over Merlin's face. He couldn't stop himself from sticking his tongue out and licking it, even while the illusion shattered and Arthur's body _shifted_ \-- his blonde hair turned black, his skin lightened, and his muscles became less pronounced.

Mordred's mouth turned up slightly at the lips -- not really a smile, not with the way his eyes stayed flat. "Maybe if you told him--"

No. Merlin shook his head. "He's happy with Gwen. I have no place there."

The bed creaked as Mordred sat down next to him. He rubbed a thumb against the seed stuck to Merlin's cheek. "You know I'd do anything for you, Emrys."

Merlin flinched, shrugged Mordred's hand away. The gesture made Mordred frown, but he didn't attempt to touch Merlin again.

"Leave," Merlin commanded, and though he had no true authority Mordred immediately made to go.

He stopped short of the door. "I'll see you again next week?"

It wasn't enough, would never be enough, but it was the only thing Merlin had. The real Arthur was out of his reach, so he would take an imitation of him instead. "Yes. Just make sure to--"

"I know." Mordred walked out the door.

Merlin was left sitting alone, seed slowly drying on his face and his dick half-hard.

 

20.

Kink(s): tattoos, tentacles  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Other  
Warning(s): None

All day, Merlin feels his tattoo burn. It knows, because Merlin knows, that Arthur won't be home tonight. 

At lunchtime, he goes into the lavatory and pulls the top buttons of his shirt open. He knows he shouldn't, but it's really the least of the things he shouldn't do today. No matter how hard he tries to stop himself, he knows he's going to do them anyway. 

He runs his hand under the warm tap and then runs it over his chest and shoulder where the ink twines around his heart. An immediate shiver runs through him at the touch of the water. The skin under his hand ripples with anger and promise.

By the time he gets home, anticipation has kept him hard for most of the day. He doesn't bother turning on the lights or looking at the day's post. He goes straight upstairs and runs the bath.

At the first splash of water, Merlin gasps as his left shoulder wrenches his back into an arch. He feels the magic rippling under his skin. It wants out.

He forces himself to undo his shirt and trousers methodically, even though his fingers tremble and slip on the buttons. The water is getting higher, but though he didn't choose this, he will be the one in control.

Merlin waits until the water is as hot as he can stand. Heat is a soporific; his companion prefers the chill of its dream sea. As he bends over the steam, the ache in his shoulder settles. Now all he can feel is his cock.

The hot water sloshes around his knees and then slips silken around his arse, his balls, his rigid cock. It comes up to his chest and tickles the bottom of the tattoo. The water ripples and he feels the first full wiggle of the tips of the tentacles. No going back now.

Merlin slides down into the water until he is submerged up to his neck. He closes his eyes so he won't have to watch the ink lifting from his skin and taking solid form. He can feel it anyway, the weight of the body sliding onto his chest as it grows and grows and grows.

"You're like a damn sea monkey," he whispers. 

An arm slithers across his throat and clamps around his jaw to silence him. The rest of the arms writhe around his body, prodding for a grip on his flesh. He bends his knees and braces them against the side of the tub to keep it from turning him face down like it wants. That makes space for two of the growing arms to twine around his legs. More arms wrap around his torso, pinning his arms while the expanding mass of the creature covers him. 

The arms shift, undulate, tasting his skin with dozens of tiny suckers as they grow longer. He inhales as each flicker of suction arouses his skin. This is why Arthur must be away; Merlin can't explain the dozens of red circles that will soon cover the whole of his body. 

He refuses to open his eyes and look at it, but he knows when it's grown as large as it can within the strictures of the tub. It lets out a screech of frustration. The arms tighten around him, suckers digging into his flesh as instinct drives him to thrash in their grip.

"Maybe someday I'll take you to a big pool," Merlin lies with a gasp. "Olympic sized, yeah? Or a lake."

It trills more softly. Suckers clamp onto the tender skin of his inner thighs, wrenching them apart. Then one arm untangles from his legs and probes between them.

The entry is nothing like when Arthur's cock enters him. The tip of it wriggles into his arse, inadvertently teasing his rim so that his hole contracts around it. Then the bulk of the arm pushes in behind it, scraping and stretching him.

Merlin writhes with the discomfort until the arm flattens out inside him. A cluster of suckers attaches to his prostate, and Merlin freezes in the grip of the most exquisite pleasure he's ever known.

After that, he's lost. It can do as it pleases with him. His head lolls to the side, weakened from ecstasy.

Later, it hisses, and he rouses with a sharp breath. The tub level has gotten dangerously low since they flooded the rest of the bathroom in their mating struggle.

With his free foot, Merlin fumbles for the faucet. He nudges the tap toward cold and lets the water run.

 

21.

Kink(s): power imbalance (it's an enchantment), sex outdoors, fisting  
Pairing(s): druid-ish!Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): dubcon (due to aforementioned enchantment)

Arthur’s floating in the river when his horse rears up where he left it on shore and makes off with his dry clothes, his sword fastened to its flank.

The beast’s eyes roll white before he’s stood watching its settling dust, and then he’s scrambling through silt and muck for his boots and the long hunting knife he keeps sheathed inside the right one.

His mouth tastes of muddy water as he clutches the blade’s hilt and the laces of his sopping trousers, peers through thinned brush and narrow trees for some animal, praying it’s wolves before bandits.

It’s a boy.

Standing in the road some thirty odd yards away, skinny and barefoot, he turns, and he finds Arthur’s eyes, and somehow, that’s all it takes.

***

“Emrys,” he says later, when Arthur asks his name.

He doesn’t seem like such a boy up close. Perhaps Arthur’s age. A year or two younger at the most.

He spreads a fur on the ground as the sun falls out of sight, and Arthur lies with him upon it because he knows that’s what the boy wants and his mind feels soft and hazy.

***

“Merlin,” the boy says later still, like an afterthought and a correction, dipping his chin down in time with a slow stroke to Arthur’s cock, a slower, slick pump of the two fingers working inside Arthur’s hole. They’ve been snug, tightly stuck for hours and Arthur’s sore, but it’s nice. The ache’s nice. He thinks he’ll die if the boy stops.

“I’ve been told it’s what my mother called me.” The boy prods at a spot inside Arthur that hurts now with how good it feels, that hurts because it’s surely bruised. It makes Arthur’s cock dribble and twitch. Makes him feel like he’s going to piss or come or both.

***

Merlin looks up at Arthur between flat licks to his arsehole and wet, full sucks at his balls, mouth red and swollen, hair stuck up everywhere. “You’re made of magic,” he says, the words punched out of him like he means to say Arthur is god. “I could smell you from -” He rubs his lips and teeth against Arthur’s skin, stupid with it, drunk, licks his hole again.

***

Arthur isn’t sure how long he’s been with Merlin. The sun’s come and gone, he knows, but he wouldn’t be able to answer how many times it’s happened.

***

Merlin never takes his fingers out, He replaces them with his tongue if he does and says he’d like to crawl inside Arthur and live there, that he likes him open and that it makes the magic hotter.

The longest moment he spends away from Arthur’s arse is when he spreads his thighs out on either side of Arthur’s hips and sits on his sticky prick, just sits with all his weight and moves in tight, hard downward circles, working himself off that way.

“I’ll have to let you go back soon, won’t I?” he whispers, sounding so unbearably sad about it Arthur stops breathing.

***

The fat part where Merlin’s thumb is joined to his hand is the part that hurts the most.

Merlin licks around Arthur’s stretched rim, where it feels thin and weakest, and hushes him with soothing murmurs. He keeps making low whining sounds as well, shifting, humping at nothing with each new minuscule push forward. 

Arthur’s sweating so much he can’t even see, propped up on his elbows with his head tilted back, as if that might make it easier to bring in air. It doesn’t.

“Merlin,” he says, shaking his head, pushing down, then drawing up, trying to get away and not at all wanting to, confused and blurred. “I can’t - I -”

“You can.” 

“I’ll split -” Arthur gasps, sure of it, toes curling, legs restless. “I’ll come apart - I’ll -”

And then it goes in. He takes Merlin to the wrist with a wet squelch that’d make him blush under any other circumstances, feels the bulk of Merlin's knuckles against that sweet, bruised spot and comes and comes and watches his cock spit and blurt across his belly.

“Oh fuck,” he says on such a long sigh, still coming, feeling flooded and high, and he goes onto his back in a limp mess. “Oh fuck I’ll take you with me. I’ll take you.”

Merlin opens and closes his hand in Arthur’s arse and lays his head down to watch the skin pull and catch, slide back and forth, used up and pretty.

 

22.

Kink(s): voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Other  
Warning(s): a bit of gender play, effeminacy!kink (and implied Arthur's unconscious misogyny?)

It's supposed to be a joke. 

It's supposed to be a lame, "haha remember when I jumped out of your bedroom wardrobe and you cried from fear" but then Arthur forgets to do any jumping. Instead, he stares at Merlin and the tall, blond women kissing and feels all the air leave his lungs. 

It all happens so _fast_. 

He really does mean to move, particularly when it's clear that they're not taking their time—clothes peeled off and soft, moans pitching through the air. He means to leave.

He really does have some intention. 

But he gets caught up in the way Merlin sighs into the kiss. He's so... well, it's strange but he's shockingly submissive. Arthur watches, as Merlin undoubtably surrenders to the women's bruises kisses. Her jaw is sharp, her hips as slim and lean as her flat chest. Her blond hair is cropped and she kisses him like she owns him. Merlin's offers his neck to her, his hands clutching at her back and shoulders until she pushes him down onto the bed and scrapes her teeth down his throat.

He's moaning, high-pitched and a little frantic at whatever she's doing to him but Arthur can't even wrap his mind around it because Merlin's gone all feminine-soft and supple before his eyes. It's so easy now, to reconcile this Merlin with the women Arthur's striped and pleasured—licked inside of them and fucked them until they came around him. 

He doesn't even notice what's happening until Merlin thrashes on the bed, a high-keening noises rippling through his spine and that certainly catches the attention of Arthur (and admittedly, his dick).

It's the unmistakable twist of the lady's wrist that eventually pulls Arthur into the scene. That, and the large purple cock hanging between her legs. 

By the time Arthur's put together the pieces, albeit embarrassingly slowly, she's flexing her hips and driving into Merlin on all fours. Arthur immediately finds himself missing the open expression on Merlin's face, even with him arse up, straining back onto her dick and the sweaty flush of his back laid out. 

"Oh fuck," Merlin says, still high and a bit strangled. He's breathless as she thrusts into him, relatively silent compared to the noise that seems to fall effortless from the soft, flushed 'oh' of his mouth. 

"Harder, god—oh," Merlin moans and she seems to let loose an impressing amount of steady rhythm that Arthur can't help but follow with his own hand across his cock. 

It's hard not to chase his own orgasm with Merlin spread out and wanting, even though it bears keeping in mind considering Merlin is his best friend, a little mouthy and stubborn—so at odds with the man Arthur is jerking off to. He seems so consumed and needy, even the clutch of his fingers against the sheets look effeminate to Arthur. He looks strained and swollen with her cock. Arthur can't stop pressing his hand to his dick and watching how sweaty Merlin gets every time she slides into him. He can see the wet mop of curling strands at the base of his neck—every once in a while, the woman will bend forward and say something Arthur can't hear but he can hear the way Merlin reacts. 

"Oh, fuck—yes, _Arthur_ , god—yes, fuckfuck—"

Arthur feels the shock to the chest but it doesn't matter because she's fucking Merlin like he's a whore, viciously pounding into him and twisting him back onto her hips with a jerk of her hand in his sweaty hair. Arthur's world narrows, watching her grind her hips until she comes with a thrash of hips. She coaxes Merlin there too, until he's crying out. Arthur can't tell if it's his name again but it sounds like it hurts—like it's being dragged out of him and he's so fucking thankful for it. 

Arthur sits as the aftermath of messy, enthusiastic sex happens. Except she doesn't leave as abruptly as they entered. Her kisses tapper off and then she cleans him. It's tender, sweet and Merlin smiles. They have tea, naked, legs folded up beneath them after.

It's such a—fuck, Arthur doesn't even know. But he can't shake it. Merlin smiles twists inside of him until it's all he wants. Viciously, he hates this woman and her ability to keep all these smiles to herself. Before she goes, Merlin thanks her and she winks when he grins bashfully but honest.

The reconciliation between this Merlin and the Merlin Arthur is privy to feels inconceivable. 

 

23.

Kink(s): Bukkake, group sex, bondage  
Pairing(s): Merlin/knights, Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): none

Gwaine was in the stables, checking a gash on his favorite destrier’s foreleg, when Leon walked by and said quietly, “We’re doing Merlin tonight. An hour after sundown. Spread the word.”

Gwaine grinned. “Best news I’ve heard all week.” He hummed to himself as he finished his work.

Arthur only let them party with Merlin once a month or so. Gwaine’s opinion was that the king was a possessive git. Just because he and Merlin had a thing going, didn’t mean that the others shouldn’t have their chance, too. After all, they’d all had some good times with Merlin before Arthur claimed exclusivity. At least for fucking.

Gwaine told Percival, and Percival told Gareth and Galahad, and Galahad told Lance and Bors, and Lance told Elyan, and Elyan told Pellinor and Lucan and Ector, and soon they had enough knights to make a fun night of it.

Merlin always enjoyed what they had planned for him, but they liked to keep an element of surprise, so Lance was assigned to lure Merlin to the stables at the appointed time. 

They drew lots beforehand. One lucky man had a special privilege with Merlin, and one unlucky one had to stand guard. Elyan grinned when he drew the long straw, and Bors whined when he got the short one. No fun for him until the next time.

When Lance entered the stable with Merlin, talking earnestly about a filly that he needed Merlin’s opinion about, the knights all stood up from the hay bales they had been lounging on and advanced on Merlin. 

Merlin rolled his eyes and protested half-heartedly. “Again? Didn’t we just do this? Can’t you tossers jerk off in your own beds like normal people? ” But he couldn’t hide his pleased expression.

Leon said sternly, “This is by order of the King.”

Merlin rolled his eyes again, and said, “Yeah, yeah, morale of the troops and all that.” But then he was too busy being manhandled for any more sassy answers.

They formed a circle around him and picked him up bodily, laying him flat on a bench in the center of the tack room. Eager hands pulled off his boots and then stripped him of every inch of clothing, and then there was a flurry of activity.

Someone forced his mouth open to accept the small cloth ball that would gag him, and it was tied around his head with a special leather bridle Arthur had designed himself. They knew Merlin wouldn’t try to get away, but it was more fun for them when he was tied up, so they pulled his arms over his head and bound his wrists with lengths of silk. They’d used rope once, but it had left marks and Arthur had been furious.  
He didn’t want anyone marking Merlin but him.

When Merlin was arranged to their satisfaction, they started running their hands all over him, caressing his arms and legs and the inside of his thighs until his cock was stiff and purple.

Then Elyan advanced with a pot of scented unguent and the smooth wooden dildo that fit Merlin perfectly, which they all knew meant it was just a little too big. They all stepped back and began undoing their breeches as Elyan knelt by the foot of the bench. Merlin spread his legs and Elyan thumbed Merlin’s hole, rubbing the ointment in and around it. The knights watched eagerly, already stroking themselves, as 

Elyan smeared some of the grease around the tip of the dildo and breached Merlin, tentatively at first, then teasing him with a few short thrusts before ramming it home. 

The widening of Merlin’s eyes as he took the dildo was the signal to them to begin wanking in earnest. Merlin squirmed on the bench, unable to talk, his arse filled but no one fucking him, his prick hard to the point of discomfort. He glared at them, and they alternately laughed at him and praised him, saying, “Move for us, Merlin. C’mon,” or “So pretty like that, arse and mouth full.”

Gwaine came first, stepping close and spurting all over Merlin’s belly. The others followed, until Merlin was dripping with sticky whiteness.

No one came on Merlin’s face, though.

Until Arthur stepped out of the shadows, prick in hand, and painted Merlin’s face with his come. And then he undid the gag and used his palm to smear the wetness across Merlin’s lips, his big warm hand a caress.

 

24.

Kink(s): bodyswap  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): consent issues

 

Arthur shuts the door to Merlin's room behind him and fumbles Merlin's trousers open as quickly as he can. He tries to be patient and he tries to go slow, but this might be his only chance and Merlin can't know that this is what Arthur's done in the hour they spend apart. He's left Merlin to play the part of prince in the Council chambers, awkward and furious inside Arthur's body, blaming magic and, inexplicably, himself for what's happened. 

He might've lasted, Arthur thinks, if he only had to endure his senses stretching through Merlin's body. If he only had to see and feel the world the way Merlin does for one day, he would've been fine. The problem, Arthur knows as he fingers the length of Merlin's cock and feels it grow hard against the palm of his hand, is that all he can feel is Merlin. The taste of his sweat and the sight of his pale skin and the scent of his body. 

And that--god, Arthur takes in a breath and holds it until he starts to feel dizzy--that might the worst, the strange and familiar scent of warm skin and sweat, sunshine and dry grass, the thick musk of arousal. Arthur knows this scent, knows it as well as his own body, knows it in the way he does all the other small, guilty secrets that he keeps. 

But he's never known Merlin like this, inside out and with a desperation that makes him want to pull off Merlin's clothes, to rip them off if he has to with a promise to replace them. And he would--he'd replace them ten times over to be able to skim his hands over Merlin's chest and stomach, to tease him until he shuddered with need, to do it all with his own hands. 

Arthur thumbs the end of Merlin's cock and smiles at way Merlin's body reacts: a shiver of happiness, then anticipation. He likes this, he likes being teased and made to wait for the next touch, and he imagines that Merlin must like it, too. Maybe Merlin likes to start with slow, flitting touches before fisting his own cock, his slim body taut and pale on his narrow bed. Maybe his body remembers what he likes, and the way Arthur touches him and gets him hard play out those memories. 

There's something else, though, something that sparks beneath Merlin's skin and pricks at the back of Arthur's mind. Something bright and quick that Arthur can't quite grasp but that he knows is inseparable from Merlin's very being. It tickles at the edge of Arthur's senses, reminding him of the glint of Merlin's eyes, of the smile that quirks the corner of lips at the most inappropriately absurd moments, of the brush of his slim fingers over Arthur's armor, over his clothes, over his skin. 

God. Fuck. Arthur tightens Merlin's fingers around Merlin's cock, tugging roughly when he can't keep his hand steady. No, Merlin's hand, he thinks, and the thought sends a thousand tiny shivers through him until he's scrabbling at the door behind him with the other hand to try and stay upright. He come with a sudden, muffled cry before he's ready, unable to stop the wash of pleasure and relief. 

Arthur sinks to the floor, heart beating almost painfully hard, breath rasping. For a moment, he feels warmth and light; he even forgets who is, forgets his guilt and his need, loses himself in that small space that is neither Merlin not himself.

The outside door slams and startles Arthur. Before he can collect himself, he hears his own voice, but he can tell from the tone and cadence that it's really Merlin who's talking. He doesn't have to listen long to realize what it is that he feels beneath Merlin's skin, what he feels warming his own senses.

It seems Merlin has a secret, too.

 

25.

Kink(s): sounding, powerplay  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

He’s alone in the waiting room. It’s decorated in soothing colours, even the chairs are surprisingly comfortable. He might be able to relax if he wasn’t just a few moments away from his check-up.

“Mr. Pendragon?” asks the man who just opened the door to the surgery.

Arthur nods.

“My name is Merlin Emrys and I’ll be taking care of you today. If you could follow me…”

Arthur is ushered to a fairly large room that’s furnished in a similar way as the waiting room.

“You can call me Merlin,” the doctor says. “Can I call you Arthur or are you more comfortable with Mr. Pendragon?”

“Arthur is fine.”

He’s nervous.

“Nothing to worry about,” Merlin says as if sensing Arthur’s unease. “It will certainly be more pleasant than going to the dentist. 

“That’s not really reassuring,” Arthur grumbles, earning himself a chuckle.

“I don’t want to seem too forward, but take your clothes off, please.”

 

~x~

 

“Are you comfortable? It will take a while.”

Arthur tries to relax on the examination chair, but his heart is still hammering inside his chest a he feels a bit like throwing up.

“Did you drink the water as you were instructed to?”

“Yes.”

“I know it might not seem related to your problem, but as I will be checking your bladder, I’d like to check your prostate too.”

 

~x~

 

“That’s it, just breathe through it,” Merlin says, pressing his finger further in. “It’s not supposed to hurt, so tell me if it does, okay?”

Arthur closes his eyes as Merlin’s finger brushes over his prostate repeatedly. His cheeks go red as he feels his cock stiffening.

“Absolutely normal physical reaction. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

The doctor prods carefully over Arthur’s lower belly and around the base of Arthur’s cock, never pausing the gentle circular motions over his prostate. Arthur’s more and more aware of his full bladder, but he’s also aware of the full erection that will make attempts at relieving himself almost impossible.

“Everything seems to be in a good working order. The problem must be somewhere else,” Merlin says, pulling his finger out and changing the latex gloves for a new pair. “Your practician already explained to you what sounding is, right?”

“Yes, but…”

Arthur looks at his hands that are clenched on the side of the chair.

“But?” Arthur asks softly.

“I really need to… uh…”

“Oh, sorry, I almost forgot. I’ll need to take a urine sample and I’d like to do so through catheterization.”

It doesn’t ease Arthur’s nerves much, but he nods for the doctor to continue.

“This will definitely feel weird. If you feel like freaking out on me, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

The blinding smile Merlin gives him does make a bit of tension go away.

When something enters the tip of his cock, Arthur jerks back without a conscious thought.

“Easy,” Merlin says, putting a steadying hand on his thigh for a short moment before going back to his task.

Arthur can’t help but breath faster as the thin tube is pushed further inside his urethra. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s on the verge of being unbearably uncomfortable.

“And we’re in.”

He does something and Arthur’s bladder starts emptying without his conscious command. The relief is enormous and Arthur can’t stop a small moan from leaving his lips. 

“Feeling better?” Merlin asks, seemingly unaware of his hand caressing the sensitive skin of Arthur’s inner thigh.

He takes hold of Arthur’s cock and Arthur’s hips buck up on instinct.

“I could…” he says and doesn’t finish, tugging at Arthur’s cock a few times instead.

“Please,” Arthur says, barely a whisper.

Merlin speeds up his hand’s movements, flicking his thumb over the sensitive head, careful around the catheter. 

“I’m going to pull it out, okay?”

Arthur’s too far gone to respond. The steady pull of removing the tube is a completely new sensation. It’s intense, nearly overwhelming.

Rushed ‘ah’ noises escape Arthur’s lips as the last few inches of the catheter leaves his body. Once fully removed, Merlin speeds his hand up and starts massaging Arthur’s scrotum with his other hand. 

“Come on, Arthur, come on. Just let go.”

At that, Arthur’s world goes white with pleasure.

 

~x~

 

“Okay?” 

Arthur pulls Merlin down by the front of his coat, drawing him into a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“We didn’t even get to the main course,” Arthur says, stroking Merlin’s cheek.

“There’s always next time. Or round two.”

 

26.

Kink(s): public sex  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): Public Sex, PWP 

 

The incandescent moon pierced the dark pitch of midnight over Camelot. An eerie silence flowed through the castle walls, echoing around each bend. Alone in his chambers, sat the Crown Prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon. Though the hush may have bothered some, Arthur revelled in it. He very rarely had moments of such peace. The stillness did not last for long, it was shattered moments later by blood curdling shrieking, The clash of armour and hurried footsteps of guards, racing from dungeons, into the view of Arthur.

Swift as the cunning fox, Arthur leapt from his spot, making his way to the courtyard. He found chaos; shutters being slammed as his people retreated to their homes, guards hollering orders at one another with no real structure. Arthur stood strong, and demanded, “What’s going on here?”

The guard jumped, turning to face the Prince. With nervousness lacing his voice, his eyes flicking up from the ground below them, he spoke. “Sire… The prisoner. She’s…”

He stopped; Arthur grew irritated, his body tense. He gritted his teeth replying angrily, “Spit it out man!”

“She’s escaped, my Lord.” 

Arthur tensed further, the treacherous quiver of his sculpted limbs gave away his unsettled emotions. The enraged Prince left bellowing orders to his subordinates stomping towards the stables.

Suddenly his sure footed march halted, something caught his eye in the shadows of the night. Though drenched in darkness, he was certain of what he saw. With a silent breath he crept forward till he reached the wall his target hid behind.

In a flourish of speed, strength and agility, Arthur swung round grabbing his victim, throwing them hard against the wall. Instead of the muddied brown stare of the young escaped witch, two scared cerulean eyes stared up at him through lashes of pure ebony.

“Merlin! Of all the… Always ruddy… Never listen. Why are you even out here?! Do you know how dangerous it is to be slinking around in the shadows right now?” Arthur demanded, grabbing his manservant’s shoulder, pushing him roughly against the wall.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Arthur! I can handle your idiotic guards, thank you very much,” Merlin replied insolently, never breaking their heavy gaze, locked as it was, in fury… and something else. 

Arthur growled, invading his personal space beyond propriety. Noses almost grazed, each could feel the others hot breath on their lips. There was something predatory, almost feral in Arthur’s deep azure gaze. He spoke in a husky growl, his top lip curling to bare his slightly crooked, sharp incisors. “No you’re not. But you are mine, Merlin. Never. Doubt. That.” The words punctuated with a roll of his hips, crowding Merlin against the wall. His firm body pinned his manservant. Around them the voices of search parties called out. Arthur never flinched, as though they were the only ones in the world in that moment.

“Arthur…” Merlin whispered, a ghost of a plea that he didn’t mean. 

The Prince’s thickening cock ached hearing his name on Merlin’s lips. Then he attacked; lips crashing together in a collision of fiery passion. Merlin mewled. Arthur forced his way into his mouth, claiming it as his own. Tongues wrestled; fingers grabbed. It was electric, a current that ran between them as they touched each other. Arthur released the raven haired man’s lips, only to lick across his jaw line and bite down on his alabaster neck, marking him as his. Merlin cried out in agonising pleasure, Arthur grinned undoing his neckerchief. “If you can’t stay quiet, Love… I’ll have to make you.”

Merlin pleaded with his eyes, whimpering. “I’ll be good… Arthur, please.”

This was the golden maned prince’s undoing. He grabbed Merlin’s hips, grinding his painfully hard cock against his manservant’s. They rutted wildly, harder, faster, moments stretched on. Arthur groaned, bit Merlin’s ear commanding. “Come for me. Want to lick your cock clean, make you hard again for me… all for me.”

Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder, biting him to stop the scream as he came hard, flooding his underclothes with hot ropes of come, spending himself completely, and collapsing against his Prince.

“Merlin… Merlin? MERLIN!!” shouted Arthur. Merlin snapped his eyes open just in time to see a boot flying towards his face, which just missed. 

Merlin blinked as he woke from his hundredth dream about Arthur. “…and before that you’ll see to all my needs, you do it all for me.”

Merlin’s secret smile received a strange look from Arthur. 

 

27.

**Kink(s):** public sex  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None

It was the same man from before. His sweat-slick skin shone like glitter under the lights, his upper lip coated with a sheen Arthur desperately wanted to lick off, and his raven hair was plastered to his forehead. His lips were just slightly parted and his chin was tilted so that he looked out from under thick eyelashes, as if in invitation. Indeed, the way he rolled his hips and swung his arms was definitely more than inviting.

Arthur made his way over. By now this was all for appearances, the delayed moment of eye contact, the man’s body calling “If you want it, come and get it.” He’d been coming to this same club for weeks to dance with the same stranger. They’d revolve around each other for a while, not dancing together right away, then, always at a different random moment, their eyes would meet and the man would open his body like a flower for Arthur.

Arthur rolled his hips along with the raven haired man, their bodies moving in unison like tidal waves. His hands slid up Arthur’s thighs to settle on his waist and clutched the fabric. It was damp with sweat, everything was, but that somehow made it better. They were covered in each other’s perspiration, sick-sweet and slimy, gross but not giving a damn.

Their matching arousals were unmistakable with their bodies so close. When the song broke down to just drums, guitar, and a solid synth beat, dancing became more like grinding. They no longer stared at each other, but buried their faces in each other’s necks. Arthur darted his tongue out to lick a salty stripe and his partner moaned low in his ear. It was the first time Arthur heard the man make a single sound.

Wanting more, Arthur nipped the skin over the collarbone and earned a tight squeeze on his arse. His breath caught in his throat and Arthur decided to move this somewhere else. He began pulling the man towards the club loo. Nobody was there and they slammed against the wall before the door shut behind them.

Their first kiss was sloppy, unsynchronised, in contrast to their dancing. The only thing they did agree on was the need to shove their tongues down each other’s throats, then move to a stall.

Their bodies were dripping wet with sweat, so the fingering was easy. It seemed instinctual for the man to spin around and stick his arse out for Arthur. The channel was slick and not too tight and Arthur added a second finger soon after.  
“Tell me your name,” he growled in the man’s ear. “So I can scream it while I fuck you.”

“Merlin. My name is Merlin.” His voice was low, breathless, and smooth to Arthur’s ringing ears.

Arthur stuck his hand into Merlin’s back pocket—God, he looked delicious, so fucking good with his palms on the stall and his arse out like that—and dug out a condom. He got it on with practised ease and lined up his cock, pressing the blunt head to Merlin’s sweet puckered entrance.

“I’m Arthur.”

He pushed in slowly, watched the muscle close perfectly around him, and Merlin keened.

“Yes, Arthur, fuck, yes.”

“Merlin—“

“Yeah, do it, fuck me Arthur, just shove it, give it to me.”

Arthur barely stifled a moan and thrust in without restraint. Merlin let out a shaky “Yes” and pressed his forehead against the cool stall. Arthur pushed and pushed and it was rough and hurried. Weeks of dancing so close to this man, wanting to be inside him, had finally been rewarded with this explosion of lust and raw emotion.

Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, not after weeks of pining. As soon as he felt his orgasm building he reached around and stroked Merlin to a quick completion. Merlin threw his head back with a silent scream.

Arthur came hard and slipping out was more like peeling as he stepped away. Even their sweat-sticky bodies wanted to stay pressed together. Merlin did up his trousers as Arthur flushed the condom and Arthur dreaded the awkwardness sure to follow.

When he turned, however, Merlin grabbed his hand and placed a folded paper in his palm.

“I’d planned on giving you this tonight, anyway,” he said. “Don’t lose it.” He gave Arthur a final kiss and disappeared with a wicked grin.

Arthur looked at the paper in his hand. Merlin’s number.


	2. Group B (warnings)

28.

Kink(s): bodyswap  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None.

The body Merlin woke up in today is female, young, blonde, and so reminiscent of the type of girl that Arthur used to date that Arthur is almost immediately torn between painful arousal and discomfort. Arousal wins out when Merlin looks down at his breasts, rolls his eyes, and then fixes Arthur with a scorching look. Arthur has them both stripped in record time.

“Someone’s eager,” Merlin says, and Arthur can’t help but smirk at the breathy quality to his feminine voice.

Arthur brushes his finger against the lips of Merlin’s cunt and pulls it back glistening with the wetness that’s already starting to accumulate. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

Merlin scoffs and arches his back pointedly. Arthur wastes no time in obeying the unspoken command. He edges down the bed, running his tongue along random patches of skin as he goes, delighting in the noises Merlin gives in reply. 

It’s been years since he’s gone down on a woman, but as he licks at the soft skin where Merlin’s thigh and hip met, Arthur feels it all coming back to him – like riding a bike, he supposes, and he smiles wryly as he buries his face in between Merlin’s thighs. He purses his lips around the soft hot flesh, sucking and just breathing it all in, feeling his face slowly getting wetter with Merlin’s arousal and his own saliva. He’s getting high on the taste and smell surrounding him, the sound of Merlin’s shuddering gasps –

Arthur has his tongue working circles on Merlin’s clit and two fingers fucking him at a relentless pace when he feels Merlin’s tremors crest and his body tensing. Even in a stranger's body, Arthur recognises the signs and pulls away with a smirk.

Merlin swears, cursing Arthur's name in various colourful ways, his hips jerking erratically in a futile search for friction.

“That,” Arthur says, and leans down, mouthing at Merlin's upper thigh, leaving a sticky mouth print behind, "is for refusing to fuck me yesterday.”

“You were in the body of a thirteen year old!” Merlin cries, hand travelling downwards to get himself off. Arthur bats it away and bites down in gentle reprimand. “I - aah - felt pervy just listening to you moan about how horny you were.”

Arthur just grins. “Payback's a bitch, isn't it?”

“I swear to god, Arthur,” Merlin says, squirming, “if you don’t get me off, I’ll – I’ll think of something terribly creative and cruel and-”

“All right, all right, calm down.” Arthur can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that appears as he adds, “Don’t be such a _girl_ , Merlin.”

Merlin’s laugh is loud and too high-pitched to really be his, but the half-amused, half-exasperated look in his eyes is familiar. “You’ve been saving that joke all morning, haven’t you?”

Arthur’s answer is to replace his fingers, rubbing and pinching and teasing at Merlin’s swollen clit until he comes apart with a sharp cry.

They collapse onto the bed, the breeze from the ceiling fan a comfort on their tangle of sticky, sweaty limbs. Once Merlin’s caught his breath, Arthur reaches over to run a finger down the shell of Merlin's ear. It's too small and dainty and sends a sharp pang of longing into his stomach. “Would you believe I miss your ears?” His voice is playful but gauging by Merlin's bittersweet half-smile, his messy emotions are shared.

“This can't last forever," Merlin says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Whatever this is making everybody’s bodies switch – a spell or freak of science or whatever – it’ll end.”

Arthur’s saved the trouble of trying to put his thoughts into words when Merlin rolls to lay on top of him with a wicked smile. “Now,” Merlin says, rolling his hips into the erection that hadn’t abated in the momentary lull, “let’s see if we can get this taken care of.”

 

29.

Kink(s): BDSM, bukkake, blindfold  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Knights  
Warning(s): dubious consent due to blindfold play

Merlin tugged at the ropes holding his arms and legs to Arthur’s bed. They had no give. Tying Merlin up had often been a part of their play, but never had it been so restrictive. Never had Merlin been so completely at Arthur’s mercy before; blind and bound and utterly unable to do more than breathe and harden at the thoughts of what Arthur was going to do to him this time.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes later that Merlin heard the door open, causing him to tense up. Slowly he relaxed as the shuffling sounds of Arthur’s cloak came closer. Merlin was about to open his mouth and ask—like the cheeky brat he was—what Arthur had in mind this time, but then there was another sound that gave him pause. Another cloak, by the sounds of it. Then another, and another, and another.

Merlin lost track of how many knights—they had to be knights, who else would be walking around in cloaks in the middle of the day?—were in the room now. Merlin knew he was frowning, knew Arthur didn’t like it when he frowned, but he couldn’t help it. 

Just then a hand came to his head, fingers running through his hair, nails scraping lightly across his scalp. Merlin nearly purred at the touch. There was a puff of breath next to his cheek as he heard Arthur’s voice whisper into his ear.

“Merlin. You promised you would do anything for me right? You said I could do whatever I want with you. You’re mine, right?”

Merlin hurried to nod, pinching his lips shut against the resounding _‘yes, yes, yes!’_ that threatened to get out. Arthur’s approval breathed across his neck and a small kiss was placed at the point where neck met shoulder, right on the dark bruise that Arthur had claimed as _his_ spot. Then he felt Arthur move away, and Merlin was left alone again. 

Arthur’s voice came again, this time further away. “All right then. Men, you know what to do.” 

Merlin fought not to tense up at that, at the unknown. He trusted Arthur, he did. It was the addition of who knows how many others tonight that was keeping him from the right headspace.

A touch to his thigh made Merlin jump, a gasp hissed through his teeth. Other hands joined in, caressing him all over his body; too many hands to count. The sensation of so many touches was a heady one and Merlin found himself arching this way and that trying to lean into them.

When the hands began to draw away Merlin keened, silently begging them to stay, pet him for a while longer. He heard a familiar chuckle.

“You’re such a kitten, Merlin; begging for our touch.” 

There was another laugh, from Arthur. “Stop teasing him Gwaine and get to it. You’ve only got one shot at this.”

“Maybe _you’ve_ only got one shot, Princess. But some of us can go all night.” Merlin could hear the leer in Gwaine’s voice.

The rest of the knights laughed at the ribbing, but went silent after that. Merlin was overly aware of his own breathing in the suddenly quiet room. That, and the tell-tale slicking sounds of a group of men jerking off. Merlin fought not to pant at the mental image provided by such noises. He bit his lips and tried to relax in his bonds, waiting for _something_.

The first hot stripe of come came as a complete surprise, painting across his neck. Merlin gasped, his own cock twitching at the groans of the men surrounding him. A few seconds later another splash of come hit his hip and across his thigh, coming so close to his balls it made him shiver. Then, almost at the same time, two more knights were coming on his chest. He could feel their seed dripping down to the hollow in his neck and off his shoulders. He felt dirty, painted in all of their come. He loved it.

A finger dragged up the underside of his straining cock, stopping to press into the slit. He felt another knight spend on his stomach, hot and wet. Like a kick to the stomach, Merlin’s orgasm rushed though him, body arching, toes curling. The last thing he heard before passing out was Arthur’s reverent voice calling him “Beautiful.”

 

30.

Kink(s): tentacles, public sex  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

Arthur had never thought of himself as a particularly kinky person but then he started dating Merlin and like everything that had to do with Merlin in his life he had to start re-evaluating things. 

Not that Merlin was particularly kinky either. More on the free spirit side. Merlin was firmly in the camp of if it made you happy do it. Arthur on the other hand took some measure of cajoling. 

That’s how they ended up in the situation they now found themselves. 

“Merlin, I’m going to kill you as soon as were out of this.”

Merlin looks at Arthur and scoffs, “Yeah, right, you love me and you know it.”

“I said nothing of the sort. Now get us out of this,” he struggles against the clinging vines that somehow had wormed their way around both of them. 

“If I remember correctly it was your idea to go camping in the first place,” Merlin says pointedly as a stray vine twines itself around his and Arthur’s waist. Cinching them tighter together within the confines of the sleeping bag they were sharing.

“It was supposed to be romantic, like back when we were in Camelot! How was I to know that the vegetation would attack us?” Arthur grumbles and rubs his torso against Merlin in an attempt to evade the clinging vines.

“You do remember this is us right? When do things go right for us?” The vines now have Merlin’s hands bound tightly around Arthur’s back. Not an inch to spare between them. Merlin sigh, “Maybe if we stay really still they’ll let go?”

Arthur makes an attempt to stop moving and the vines promptly start twisting their way into his sleep pants, “Argh, _Mer_ lin this is not working."

“Arthur calm down. I think I know what they want. Just let me try something?”

“I am NOT letting you zap anything near my junk!” Arthur starts to wiggle away from Merlin as much as he which doesn't really accomplish anything, just makes to vines pull them tighter together.

“Who said anything about zapping your bits?” Merlin struggles not to giggle as his eyes glow golden. “Maybe if we just…” Merlin noses along Arthur’s jaw kissing just behind his ear.

“You mean if we…they’ll stop?” Arthur says sounding a little breathless.

“If what I’m thinking is right then…yes,” Merlin bites lightly on Arthur’s earlobe and waits for Arthur’s reaction. 

Arthur groans, “This is a bad idea.” 

“Never stopped us before,” Merlin grins and starts wiggling them into a more comfortable position. His body grinding into Arthur's as they tip unto their sides. "Yeah, that's more like it." 

Arthur's eyes glaze a little as Merlin's dick pushes up against his, even through their layers of clothes it feels fantastic. 

"Yeah, that's it. Here move like this," Arthur places both his hands on Merlin's ass and guides them into a rocking motion the vines start swaying with them. Like they're enjoying the movement.

"Arthur." Merlin whines, "I want to feel you," he tries to loose his hands from where they are tied to Arthur's back with vines but it doesn't do anything. "This is as annoying as hell."

"Wait, just a moment. Let me. There," Arthur manages to squirm one of his hands free. He wiggles around enough till eventually he's able to get his hand between them. He then makes short work of both their zippers and underwear. 

"Holy hell!" Merlin shouts when Arthur manages to get both their bare dicks into his large hand. Working them together. Smoothing the pre-come oozing from the tips of both of them along the shafts. Creating a delicious glide. 

It doesn't take long after this till they are both stiffening and cursing loudly as they come.

Merlin flops over onto Arthur's chest when he gets his breath back, "I think it worked. The vines are gone," he grins as he kisses Arthur deeply. 

"We'll never tell anyone of this right?" Arthur says quietly when they pull apart. 

Merlin just grins at him, "like anyone would believe me."

"I don't know I might. It was a pretty enthralling performance," a very amused voice outside the tent drawls.

People five camp sites down hear the yell that follows in unison, "GWAINE!"

 

31.

Kink(s): Voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Freya  
Warning(s): None

Merlin tripped up the stairs and kicked his door shut, leaning back against it to breathe. With both palms against the rough wood, he closed his eyes and gathered his courage.

Gaius was off in the lower town all evening. _Finally._

Knees weak, he lit a candle and set a wooden bowl on the stool beside the bed, then pulled a flask from his pocket. With a deep breath, he opened the stopper and poured the water into the bowl.

The moment water touched wood, a scent like all the forests of Albion sprang up: the spice of the ground after rain, the sharpness of green needles, the fresh breath of running water.

The last drop spilled out with a silver sound like a distant bell. The ripples slowed, and then-

"Freya," he rasped.

She looked up, half-startled. Seeing him, her face softened and her fingers fluttered upward, like she might reach out and touch his face. "Merlin! How did you find more-"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I took a holiday." He didn't mention how he'd half-stolen a horse, or that Arthur wouldn't speak to him for three days after he returned, or Lancelot and Gwen's matching concerned expressions.

She seemed to guess, though, because her eyes went sad. "Don't make problems for yourself just to talk to me."

"I-" He snapped his mouth shut on _was looking for you there_ , because it wasn't her fault she hadn't heard his calls. The waters of Avalon ran deep, and most of them weren't even in this world.

She would've answered, if she'd heard.

"Don't be sad," she whispered. "Oh Merlin, don't - please. I want you happy."

"I'm okay," he said, rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms. "I'm- hearing you is good."

She quirked half a smile. "Seeing you is better."

He blushed, peeking around his hands. "Really?"

It was her turn to blush and look down, and he was struck again by how much he wanted to reach out and brush a finger across her shoulder. Brush his lips there, even.

Some hint of longing must have shown in his eyes, because she bit her lip and murmured, "I could see more of you? Maybe?"

He swallowed hard. Oh. _Oh._

He found his fingers playing with his scarf of their own accord, without any input from him. But the choice to reach back and untie the knot - that was all his. The fabric caught for a moment, frustrating, and then it fluttered to the floor. The back of his hand stroked across skin that never saw sunlight, as if it were her soft hand instead.

" _Merlin._ "

Her voice gave him confidence, though his cheeks still burned in the candlelight. Shrugging off his jacket, he touched his belt, then looked up.

Their eyes met, hers holding a question. Taking a deep breath, he unfastened his belt, letting it fall to the bed. His fingers played with the edge of his tunic for a moment, then pulled it off in one decisive movement.

When he looked down, she was smiling. "Is that all?" she asked, light, teasing, and suddenly he wanted to lay bare everything he felt that had led him to run off in the night for just the possibility of seeing her again.

She looked briefly surprised when his hand dropped to the laces of his trousers, but her gaze quickly heated. "Merlin," she breathed, as he pulled himself out of his smallclothes with shaking hands.

The first touch of his fingers was a revelation, toes curling and heat racing up his spine. He made a sound through clenched teeth, and the blue of the walls pulsed in response.

"Stand up," Freya said. "Let me see all of you?"

He rose to his feet with a gasp, fingers stroking lightly, back arching as need overtook embarrassment. With his thumb he brushed the thin skin of his balls, his touch light and teasing as he imagined hers would be.

Even as his own touch drove him wild, all the while her voice was soft in his ear. "Slowly, Merlin" and "faster now" and " _I wish I could-_ "

He came over his fist, curling forward as if he'd been punched.

With desperate sound, she reached up, her hand brushing the surface of the water for a moment, so close-!

Her image shattered, the light on the water forming and reforming in ripples until only the candle was reflected.

 

32.

 **Kink:** Bukkake  
 **Pairing:** Merlin/Knights, Merlin/Arthur if you squint  
 **Warning:** Dub-con(ish) due to a curse

“Sire. You are needed.”

“I'm always needed,” Arthur grumbled. “And why are you bringing me this message instead of my manservant?”

“It's Merlin, Sire. He's, well, you had better see for yourself. Gaius's chambers, Sire.”

Arthur huffed as he finished signing the winter grain distribution orders. Then he trudged to Gaius's chambers, muttering about Merlin's incompetence, ready to burst in and give him a lecture about staying out all night at the tavern.

Merlin covered in red blisters, writhing in pain on Gaius's table, surrounded by the best of his knights with their, gods, with their cocks out, and Gaius shouting, “Faster, lads! Faster!” was pretty much the last thing Arthur expected to see when he entered.

“What is going on?” He managed to get the words out.

None of his knights even looked up at him.

“A curse, Merlin was cursed!” Gaius shouted with a wave of his hands.

“That doesn't explain--”

“The only known cure of spermamorbus is ejaculate, Sire.”

Arthur's jaw dropped.

“Don't just stand there catching flies in your mouth, whip it out!” Gwaine called. “I'm already on round two.”

“Is this a joke?” All the knights knew of Arthur's preference for men. Though they always seemed to be accepting, he wouldn't put it past them to have a laugh at his expense.

But then the painful noise that came out of Merlin's mouth made the gravity of the situation sink in.

Arthur took a hesitant step toward Merlin until the sight of Percival made him stop in his tracks.

Percival's dick was long and thick to match the rest of him, and his big calloused hands were working it fast. Arthur watched mesmerized as come started spurting out. Merlin sighed as the hot, white liquid hit his blistering skin. Arthur was sympathetic, as his manservant was clearly in agony, but then Percival reached forward and dragged his fingers through his seed, spreading it out, and Arthur's breeches were much tighter.

“There's a spot on his neck that needs seeing to, sire.” Gaius manhandled Arthur into position.

Merlin didn't look up as Arthur unlaced his breeches. Merlin's eyes were open but they had a wild look in them, as if he wasn't fully present. It was better that way. Arthur wasn't sure he would be able to conceal the torch he carried for Merlin if he knew Merlin could see him and how he affected Arthur.

The truth was, it was all affecting Arthur. When he pulled out his manhood, he was already hard. He licked his hand and then started stroking himself. He tried to keep his head down, but he couldn't help it. The sound of wet flesh being worked by his knights' fists, the musky scent of sex flooding his nose, even Merlin's twisting body, in spite of red blisters left behind by the curse—Arthur couldn't help but look up at the scene before him.

Leon was across the table from him, his cock leaking more and more with each frantic pull. Elyan had rolled his breeches down to his thighs and he was tugging at his bollocks, which seemed to be the trick that sent him over the edge, his come striping Merlin's right side.

Merlin sighed in relief as Elyan, too, spread his come over the redness marking his skin.

Arthur had to stifle a moan. He wasn't supposed to be taking pleasure in this, but seeing Merlin so vulnerable, naked as the day he was born, making noises that were downright obscene while getting covered in the seed of Arthur's knights—it was too much.

Gwaine caught his eye and winked right before he came, apparently for the second time, on Merlin's thighs.

Arthur flushed as he worked his own shaft. He was already so close to coming it was embarrassing, but he told himself the sooner he came, the sooner he could help ease Merlin's pain.

He looked down at Merlin's body while he sped up his hand. With the blisters starting to fade, it was easier to appreciate his lithe form. Arthur noticed that Merlin's dick was starting to thicken. He gasped softly as his eyes swept up to see that Merlin's eyes were starting to clear.

Arthur tried to think of anything else, but it was Merlin's expression of sated relief on his mind went he gave the last few tugs and came all over Merlin's neck. 

 

33.

Kink(s): Bodyswap

Pairing(s): MerlinxGwen, ArthurxGwen

Warning(s):

Dubcon

Merlin hadn’t expected it to actually _work._

The instant he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. After a couple moments of confusion (Why was the ceiling scarlet? Where had his shirt gone? Had he always had that much muscle?) the truth dawned on him and he sat bolt upright in the semidarkness. Only last night he’d been lying in bed— _his own_ bed—underneath his sheets, wearing his clothes, and, perhaps most importantly, _being in his own body_. Now—

“Arthur?” murmured a sleepy voice to his left. Merlin froze. “You’re awake already? Do you really have to get up right away?”

He didn’t say anything, not trusting himself to speak, especially not with Arthur’s voice. Just as he was about to swing his leg over the side of the bed to escape, he felt slim fingers clutch his wrist and pull him back down into the satin blankets.

“Surely you can spare your own _wife_ just a few minutes?” said Guinevere coyly, the hand that had once grasped his wrist was now moving up his— _Arthur’s_ —bare chest in such a way that he momentarily forgot how to breathe. By the time he managed to bully his lungs into working again, Gwen was only inches away.

“ _Gwen_ —” he choked out before being cut off by her lips. All thoughts were temporarily suspended, aside from a small, rather unhelpful voice that repeatedly reminded him, “ _This is_ Gwen!” Otherwise, he did not reflect on the feeling of her hair brushing his cheek, or the way her breath mingled with his, or the way—oh _God_ , her _lips!_ —the way her hand had begun to travel downwards, towards his—

“ _Gwen, please_ —” he begged again.

“Honestly, you spend all your time with that Council! I doubt they’ll miss you for a few more minutes—you know, all they do is gossip like old women when you’re away.”

“No, Gwen, wait—”

“Stop it! You’re not leaving until you’ve pleased your wife, and that’s final.” With that, she reached into his trousers and grasped his— _Hnnng_ —and then moved so she was straddling his lap. Any more protests he may have had disappeared as a sharp gasp was smothered by her lips once more. He was kissing Gwen, oh _God_ , he was _kissing Gwen,_ but somehow he no longer cared, because _damn him_ if this wasn’t making Arthur’s body react. The sound around them temporarily dimmed as blood pumped fiercely in his ears, and he could have sworn his vision dimmed a bit as well, so that all he could see was _Gwen, Gwen, Gwen._ Without any consent on his part, his hands began to move on either side of her, up her nightdress, pulling the thin silk over her head and revealing her in all her glory. He stared, because contrary to what was, thanks to Gaius, popular belief, being the King’s manservant didn’t allow for hardly any time spent at the tavern, or any place frequented by young women, for that matter.

“ _Oh,_ ” he breathed.

It was almost as if he were watching the scene from afar. Suddenly he was flipping them over, hovering over Gwen similar to how she had been positioned over him only moments before. Now she was helping him get rid of the trousers, now she was guiding him between her legs, and now he was pressing in, slow and warm and wonderful all at once. It was too much, too much for Arthur and Merlin both. By the time Merlin's mind had caught up, Arthur was already finished, and Gwen was looking put out.

"Are you going for a record now?" she huffed, pulling away and falling back onto the bed beside him. "I'd bet that _Merlin_ could last longer, and I'm not sure he's even been with a woman before."

Merlin was too caught up in the afterglow to feel mortified by that comment.

 

34.

Kink(s): Body Swap, Public Sex  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Elyan/Merlin  
Warning(s): Inexplicable absence of Gwen from the storyline

“A message for you, Sire,” Elyan stood close as Arthur paused at the barrel to splash away his morning’s exertions. He lowered his voice discretely. “From Merlin, Sire.” 

Arthur straightened quickly, glancing at the men on the field, then motioned Elyan to follow him into the deserted armory. “I’ll take the message in here, Elyan, thank you.”

As Arthur waited earnestly, Elyan felt trepidation for this arrangement. He still didn’t trust sorcery, it was only because it was *Merlin’s* magic that he’d agreed at all. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and relinquished control to the sorcerer.

It felt odd at first, being gently nudged to the side of his own thoughts as Merlin seeped into his mind. His solemn expression widened into a saucy grin, his broad shoulders slumped forward in casual familiarity. It startled him when Merlin’s voice poured from his lips. “As prattish as ever, Sire. Shall I report on the negotiations, then?” Arthur nodded, and as Merlin spoke, Elyan could feel beneath the diplomatic strategies the warmth of Merlin’s deep regard for his King. Was this what it was to love, deeply and unconditionally?

As Merlin drew to a close, Elyan’s gaze rose to meet Arthur’s, the King’s expression soft and filled with longing. “Merlin, I’ve missed you.” 

“And I, you, sire - I missed your whining, you big prat!” Elyan chuckled silently. But then Merlin was pressing Elyan’s lips to the King’s, sighing as Arthur’s mouth opened and his hand came up to tangle in Elyan’s cropped hair. 

_What? What’s this? Oi! I’m right here!!!_ Elyan thought frantically at Merlin. He hadn’t known… this was *not* what he’d volunteered for! 

_Sorry, Elyan_ , Merlin sheepishly pulled away from Arthur. Elyan was flooded with the intensity of Merlin’s isolation, the loneliness of his diplomatic exile, the longing for his heart’s love. 

And the expression in Arthur’s eyes, so honest, vulnerable... never had any gazed upon Elyan with such raw longing. He felt the corresponding need rise in his own heart. _Do it_ , he thought to Merlin. _He needs you_.

Merlin surged Elyan’s body forward, dark lips crashing against Arthur’s pale ones, blunt fingers grasping at the clasps to the royal armour. Elyan sensed the familiarity with which Merlin reached for Arthur’s body. Why had no one suspected? They were not particularly discrete – Elyan was intensely aware of the proximity of knights training just outside. What would they think, he wondered, should they come seeking their King and find him tugging off Elyan’s tunic and mouthing along Elyan’s dark collarbone? A thrill ran through him.

Arthur lay him down on the floorboards, hands sure and gentle, teasing moans from Merlin that Elyan echoed in silent agreement. He took his time preparing Elyan’s inexperienced body, stretching and soothing him, Merlin calming his pain as the King pressed into him. It seemed Arthur was not unaffected by Elyan’s presence within his lover – he paused often to ask Merlin if Elyan was okay, murmured appreciation for the ebony body straining beneath him as he stroked and explored, teasing out Elyan’s responses. “So gorgeous, so hard for me…” His thrusts deepened, and Merlin widened his legs to pull Arthur in deeper, feeling Elyan’s enthusiastic encouragement.

Arthur pulled Elyan to his lap, gripping his cock and thrusting hard as Elyan’s legs wrapped around his waist. The position sent shocks through Elyan, and he and Merlin both groaned as his pleasure crested and his seed spilled over Arthur’s belly. The King arched and came with a shout far too loud for their locale.

Arthur seemed to sense the spell was fading. He cupped Elyan’s cheek tenderly, kissing Merlin and whispering his name, and then Elyan’s awareness was racing back along his extremities, from his curling toes to his flushed lips. And to his hands tightly clutching his naked King.

Arthur flushed a beet-red, but Elyan just nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. It was an honour to be used by the King and his lover in this way, now he understood the depth of the secret love between them. He carefully lifted off Arthur’s softening member, deferentially offering him a cloth to wipe himself. They dressed in silence, and then Elyan, in a show of sympathy, clasped Arthur’s arm briefly before returning to the field. 

~

Arthur opened his chamber door to Sir Percival’s shy knock. “A message for you, Sire. From Merlin.”  
Arthur could not keep the eager expression from his face as he hurried the great man into his chambers. 

 

35.

Kink(s): exhibitionism, non-genital erogenous zones, dirty talk  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): None

"Oh my god, _Mer_ lin." Arthur can feel eyes on them, which makes complete sense because they are sitting in the busy park just on the edge of campus. On a very nice day. The first one in a while. So it's not really a surprise that the park is busy. 

That's an understatement. It's _really_ busy. Full with students from the university and the local high school, plus a couple small families. All out to enjoy the warm weather, because after the winter they've had, you'd be crazy to stay in. So, busy.

And that's why he and Merlin are outside, sprawled out on a blanket that smells a little like musty dorm closet, because they probably haven't used it since they moved out of the dorms, but it's fluffy and warm under the sun. They have the legs of their jeans pulled up above their knees and Arthur has stripped off his polo, leaving his arms bare in his wife beater. They'd been laying there for a long time, basking in the sun and lazily talking, when Merlin had rolled on his side next to Arthur and smirked.

Let it be known that it is _never _a good sign when Merlin smirks.__

__Because Arthur is still laid out on his back, but now he has a Merlin half sprawled on top of him, and his cock throbbing in his jeans. Because Merlin is evil._ _

__Arthur holds back a groan as best as he can when Merlin licks across the tender skin below, and just behind, his ear. He's not playing fair. Merlin knows how that particular spot affects him. It's basically a direct link to his dick._ _

__Arthur probably should have seen this coming. It was only a couple of days ago that the subject of "kinks" had come up. In the five months that they've been dating, Arthur has learned a plethora of things about his boyfriend. Things he probably should have known or realized in the four years they've been dorm-mates, then friends, then roommates._ _

__But evidently Arthur didn't know everything. Because finding out that Merlin had a kink for exhibitionism... well, that had been intense. And maybe a really big turn on. Like maybe Arthur hadn't known it could be a kink for him, too until Merlin had mentioned it. Because it sounded really amazing in theory._ _

__Except, Arthur isn't sure anymore because as much as he's enjoying Merlin's attention right now, he's not so keen on the other people in the park being privy to it. His mind is warring with his cock and as much as Arthur isn't interested in everyone seeing what Merlin is doing to him, his cock is winning._ _

__Hard._ _

__"Holy _fuck_ ," Arthur breathes out, trying to not be loud and draw more attention to them. It's so hard though when Merlin's lips are attached to that spot and he's drawing up the knee between Arthur's legs and subtly rubbing into him. "This isn't a good idea." Arthur wishes he sounded more firm about that._ _

__But Merlin just chuckles into his skin and says in a dark, sexed out voice, "But it is. Because everyone knows what we're doing. And they all see you're _mine_. Mine to do what I want with. Mine to kiss and lick. Mine to _fuck_." Arthur shudders and lifts his hips, his cock brushing into Merlin's thigh and Merlin's hard length pressing into his hip. "They all want to be me right now. And when they go home tonight, and they're lying in bed, they'll be imagining you and the way you look right now. They're going to get off thinking about you and wishing they were me."_ _

__Arthur can't stop the groan that escapes when just those words have him coming hard in his jeans. Merlin mewls into his neck then and Arthur feels him shudder against him. Arthur should feel embarrassed, but he's too sated and tired to care._ _

____

*****

Later, when they're back home, cleaned up and lying in bed, Merlin looks at Arthur and blushes when he asks, "So, how was my first try at dirty talk?"

Arthur grins at him. He's so glad they had that kinks conversation

 

36.

Kink(s): powerplay/power imbalance, office!sex, boss/employee, age difference (all over the age of consent)  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): powerplay/power imbalance

"I need an intern," Arthur told Human Resources. "Send that Merlin one."

"Merlin's a bight lad, sir. But young and not ready to work for a CEO."

"He'll do. Nine sharp in my office. Tell him to wear a decent suit. Not that awful excuse for one I've seen him wear. And not to be late!"

But Merlin was late, stammering apologies and wearing the same suit.

"I know - I didn't say you could sit." Arthur waited until Merlin stood up. "I know HR gave you instructions."

"The train - and this is the only suit I have and -"

"Enough!" Merlin glared at him. Stubborn and feisty, just the way Arthur liked. "It's Mr Pendragon - not Arthur. I will buy your clothes for the office -"

"No! I can't let -"

"Shut up. To work here you must portray a certain image."

Merlin snorted. "I think you picked the wrong bloke. Look at me."

Arthur's eyes roamed over Merlin, pausing on his sleek, pale neck and had to fight the urge to pin him down and mark it. He reached Merlin's eyes and saw an understanding of his intentions.

"Well..." Merlin looked at his feet and Arthur thought that was that - Merlin didn't want to play. "Will you go with me... shopping?" Head titled, he looked up through thick, dark lashes, coy and shy, blood filling his cheeks. 

Arthur's blood filled something else entirely. "I don't have time for trivial things."

"You're the one who wants the suits!"

Arthur was out of his seat and toe-to-toe with Merlin in a heartbeat. "You will do what I tell you. When I tell you. You only get to ask one thing of me." He held a strategic pause.

"What's that, _Mr Pendragon_?" 

"You get to ask me to _fuck_ you."

"Ohjesuschrist."

"I'll fuck you only then. Right here on my desk."

"What makes you so sure I'll ask?"

He looked at Merlin's obvious erection. "Because you're a cockslut... but right now, you're just going to watch."

"Watch what? Oh..."

Arthur leaned back against the desk, took his cock out, and jerked himself off in front of a stunned Merlin, who, through the awkwardness, still looked at Arthur's cock like he wanted to devour it. 

It didn't take long for him to come, head back, grunting shamelessly. After he composed himself, he pointed at the come on the floor and said, "Clean that up. Then get to work." 

And he walked out, smug and satisfied, leaving Merlin speechless and looking furious.

The next day, Merlin entered Arthur's office and, without a greeting or a compliment on Merlin's new suit, Arthur said, "On your knees and suck my cock."

Jesus, he had thought about that all night and the look of shock on Merlin's face with the contrasting lust in his eyes turned Arthur's cock rock hard.

"Now, Merlin! I have a call in fifteen minutes!"

"Yes, Mr Pendragon." Merlin fell to his knees. 

Arthur took his cock out slowly, enjoying Merlin attempting to look defiant, yet licking his lips in anticipation. He ran his cock over those lips. "Nice. Perfect for a cockslut like you. Now, be a good boy and - oooohyes. Take it, baby." He ran his finger gently down Merlin's cheek. "You were aching to taste my cock, weren't you?" 

The intercom buzzed. "Mr Pendragon, your call came in early. Do you want me to -"

"Put them through."

Merlin stopped and started to stand. Arthur pushed him down. "Do not stop." 

The long-winded idiot on the call didn't realise that Arthur had him on mute often because Arthur couldn't stop encouraging Merlin. "Fuck. You're so fucking good. I know you love it."

When the call finally ended, he grabbed Merlin's head in both hands and fucked his mouth. Merlin took all of his come, moaning while shallowing it.

"Fuckfuckfuck." Merlin sat back on his heels, rubbing his cock through his clothes. "Ohfuck... Mr Pendragon...?" 

"What, Merlin?" Merlin looked wrecked. Maybe Arthur was wrong and Merlin wasn't as strong as he'd thought and he'd pull the plug on this too soon.

But he didn't. He took a long, deep breath and squeezed his cock before he stood. 

"Mr Pendragon, will that be all?"

"For today."

Merlin nodded and headed for the door. "And, Merlin... when you ask - no _beg_ me to fuck you - I expect you to be prepared already. Open and wet for my cock. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting any longer."

The last sound Arthur heard before the door closed was a whimper.

 

37.

Kink: Bodyswap  
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin  
Warnings: None

Arthur woke up sore, his whole body aching as though he’d just been trampled. The cold air stirred around him as he shifted between scratchy sheets, bringing with it a welcome aroma. It was ... _Merlin_. Arthur sucked the scent in deep, curious. He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes and saw long, slender fingers that were achingly familiar but not his own.

He burst out of the room, startling Gaius so badly he dropped the tonic he’d been swirling. Arthur apologised, and Merlin’s voice croaked out of his throat, deeper than usual, intimate and _wrong_. He tried running, but Merlin’s legs were all long and wobbly, and Arthur felt like a newborn colt trying to navigate the castle.

It took ages to get to his own chambers, and when he tumbled inside, he was stunned into surreal silence. He saw himself in the bed, stark naked with legs sprawled wide across the duvet, hand moving roughly over his cock and face buried under a pillow. Rough groans floated across the room, sounds deeper, more desperate than any Arthur had ever made. The body on the bed was strung tight, tensed up with that ache Arthur knew well.

“Merlin,” Arthur barked, the regal effect lost in Merlin’s casual voice.

The body on the bed abruptly stopped moving, and Merlin yanked up the covers. Arthur nearly laughed at the absurdity of protecting his body’s modesty from its rightful owner.

“Are you—were you _defiling_ my body?”

“Er, no,” Merlin said, slipping the pillow off his face a bit.

“You’re going to figure out what’s happened to us,” Arthur said, “and I’m going to return the favour. Let’s see what nasty secrets you’ve been hiding.”

Merlin’s borrowed face looked genuinely concerned.

Arthur nearly toppled over when he turned to leave.

***

Merlin’s cock was slick in Arthur’s hand, drenched in the oil he’d found stashed in Merlin’s cabinet. This body was fucking _incredible_. There was something about it, deep and intense, something more than Arthur’s own. Merlin was surprisingly beautiful under his clothes, wiry muscles stretched tight under smooth skin. The hair at his groin was jet black, and Arthur couldn’t keep his hands away, scraping his fingers through it as he reached down to cup Merlin’s balls.

He brought his hand to his nose, sucking in the scent of Merlin’s sex: close, heady, worth drowning in. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, biting around them to keep from crying out, because this was by far the best wank session he’d ever had. Everything about Merlin’s body was sensitive and richly intense. From his nipples to his hips to the insides of his elbows, every touch felt magnified, resonant.

This was Arthur’s fourth time wanking—in a row. Merlin’s body didn’t stop, didn’t give up or lose its desperate need for more touch. It was ravenous, and Arthur wondered how Merlin touched himself, how he ever _stopped_ touching himself, how Merlin didn’t cry out with pleasure every time Arthur gathered the back of his neck in his palm, because _god_ , everything felt good. Everything.

He was on the verge of coming again when the door creaked open and Arthur’s body stepped inside, broad and menacing and with an insolent facial expression Arthur didn’t think he’d ever worn himself.

“I see you made good on your threat,” Merlin said, and Arthur’s voice really did come off incredibly arrogant—this pleased him.

“God, how do you ever stop?” Arthur said, wrecked and pathetic, hand still wrapped around Merlin’s cock because he was so close, and he couldn’t bear to stop now.

“I have excellent self-control,” Merlin said, closing the door behind him.

Arthur didn’t have a clear understanding of what happened then, of the words and movements that led to this, and it really didn’t matter. Merlin’s lips (which were actually Arthur’s) closed around the head of his prick, sinking down, sucking. Arthur squinted his eyes shut, replacing the image of his own face with Merlin’s, and instead of noting how fucked up all of this was, Arthur came slick and steep into Merlin’s mouth, sharp and intense as though it was ripping him apart.

Something shifted internally, a jolt that felt like being slotted into place. When Arthur regained awareness, he realised his mouth was on Merlin’s cock, licking up the last of his seed. And when Arthur glanced up to see Merlin’s face, his glassy eyes and soft, pink lips, he sunk back down, intent to bring him off again.

 

38.

Kink(s): double penetration  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur/Percival  
Warning(s): None

“Are you sure about this?” Arthur asked Merlin. His hand was warm against the curve of Merlin’s hip and he moved into the touch, completely bare. They both were. 

Merlin swallowed, his throat dry, and nodded. “You’re not having second thoughts are you?” He worked up a reassuring smile. 

“No,” Arthur murmured, looking dazed and a bit awed. “Thank you for doing this.”

Merlin couldn’t stop the laugh that broke free. “It’s not exactly a hardship on my part.” He assured and Arthur grinned, shaking his head as reached for the jar they kept beside the bed. 

“Percival.” Arthur called and the knight stepped away from the wall he’d been leaning against, shirtless. Merlin rose up a bit, balanced on his elbows, to watch as Arthur left the bed and began working on the ties of Percival's trousers. He could already see Percival’s arousal straining against the dark material as Arthur’s hand deliberately brushed over it. Their voices were too low for him to hear but Arthur said something to make Percival grin and his eyes went from Arthur to Merlin in interest.

Merlin felt anticipation thrum through his body as Percival’s trousers dropped. His cock was long and slender and when Arthur’s hand wrapped around it Merlin felt his mouth go dry again. Then he released Percival’s cock and walked him back beside Merlin, handing the jar of slick to Percival.

“Hey,” Percival greeted Merlin as he coated his fingers, his other hand reaching for Merlin’s thigh as Arthur was pressing a pillow under his hips to tilt them more.

“Hey.” Merlin smiled back, feeling a bit breathless as he felt Percival’s fingers rub against him. He didn’t waste any time, pressing in two together while Merlin bit his bottom lip and tried to adjust to the burn. Arthur’s hand was a firm pressure on his neck as he tilted Merlin’s head back to bite gently at his lips. Merlin mouth fell open on a moan as Percival’s fingers twisted with intent. Arthur moved kissing him firm and dirty, taking control of Merlin’s mouth as Percival’s fingers opened him up. 

He added a third finger and Arthur moved his mouth to Merlin’s neck, mouthing lightly at the skin as Merlin gasped. He jerked his hips back towards Percival’s thick fingers and fingers clutched tightly in the blanket. 

“Is he ready?” Arthur’s breath was hot against his neck.

Percival thrust his fingers deeply one last time before pulling them out “He’s ready now.”

Arthur pressed another kiss to his throat and lay back as Merlin turned, throwing a leg over Arthur’s waist. They’d discussed in depth how this would work beforehand. Merlin reached back to grab and position Arthur’s cock before he sunk down slowly, using his hands on Arthur’s shoulders as leverage as they started an easy rhythm. Percival had done a good job opening him up, the stretch was easy and slick. 

Before long the bed shifted and Merlin felt Percival’s hand as he trailed it over Merlin’s backside, pressed a soft kiss to the base of his spine before his fingers brushed where Arthur and Merlin were joined. One slipped in beside Arthur’s cock and Arthur’s rhythm stuttered. He held still as Percival pressed another finger in, stretching Merlin more for what was to come. 

“Come on.” Merlin urged, heart pounding wildly. Arthur’s eyes were bright and there would be bruises where he was gripping Merlin’s waist. 

He felt Percival’s fingers withdraw only to be replaced with the head of his cock. He pressed in slowly beside Arthur and suddenly Merlin found it hard to breathe. Percival groaned behind him, his hand finding the small of Merlin’s back and pressing him forward and down.

Merlin sobbed into Arthur’s neck as he was filled, stretched more than he’d ever been before. It had been Arthur’s idea, a long held fantasy whispered in the quiet of night, and something he’d heard his knights talk of in hushed whispers. Merlin had been more than willing to try it, had understood, and he’d been the one to pick Percival. 

Percival grunted as he fully sheathed himself. They moved together, one withdrawing as the other pushed, creating a rhythm that had Merlin shaking between them. 

Arthur came first, groaning, holding Merlin tightly against him. Percival fucked through the wetness of it in short, hard bursts before following. Merlin moaned and writhed, skin too tight and hot, before Arthur finally wrapped a slick hand around him and gave him relief. 

 

39.

Kink(s): semi-public sex, double penetration, rimming, sand in unfortunate places  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine  
Warning(s): None

Merlin stretched out on his blanket and watched as Gwaine and Arthur tussled in the waves breaking against the shore. He relaxed back and closed his eyes, basking in the sun as it beat down on him and let his hands wander over his sun-warmed skin. The beach around them was nearly abandoned, and watching his boys glisten in the heat was very...invigorating.

He sighed as caressed the skin above his waistband and then grinned when a shadow fell across his face. Cold water droplets sprinkled across hot skin as fabric rustled on both sides. He slipped his hand into his shorts and began to tease.

“Well, Gwaine,” Arthur said, amusement heavy in his voice. “What have we here?”

“I believe, dear Arthur,” Gwaine replied in kind, “that we have a very naughty boy who’s started without us.” Arthur hummed in agreement. “How ever shall we punish him?”

Merlin grinned in anticipation when Arthur responded, “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

Merlin half opened his eyes at the wet sound of lips meeting and tightened his hand on his cock. He stroked lazily while watching the two kiss, catching glimpses of glistening tongues. Pushing himself up, he reached up and turned Gwaine’s head, stealing him away from Arthur. He gasped into the kiss when Arthur batted his hand away from his cock and replaced it with his own.

“What shall we do with you, Merlin?” Arthur whispered against his ear. Arthur’s hand twisted around the head of his dick, and Merlin moaned and bucked up into it. 

Pulling away from Gwaine, he looked at Arthur and said, “Fuck me. Lube’s in the bag.” 

Gwaine’s weight left his side as he leaned over and grabbed the duffel they’d brought with them. “Came prepared, did you, sweetheart?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“Well --” Merlin gasped and moaned at the feel of blunt, wet fingers against his hole and bore down eagerly. It’d been days since they’d all been together and he missed having both their hands on him. 

“Eager,” Arthur said approvingly, leaning down and licking into Merlin’s mouth. “Who do you want, love?” he whispered as he pulled back.

“Both of you,” Merlin moaned as Gwaine added a third finger and twisted. “Please.”

“Turn over, then,” Arthur said. Merlin moaned as Gwaine’s fingers slipped from his body. “And let us get you ready.”

Merlin scrambled a bit, chucking his shorts as he flipped over onto all fours. The sound of cloth rustling as the other two undressed was almost lost in the noise of the waves, as was Merlin’s contented sigh. 

Callused hands ran over his back and were soon followed by soft lips. He moaned and hummed in pleasure when fingers once again filled his hole. His moans grew louder when the warm, wet heat of a talented tongue joined the rhythm set by the fingers deep in his ass. 

More fingers joined the fray, and Merlin hissed at the stretch. It felt so good, though, and soon he was rutting back against them. “I’m good,” he moaned. “I’m ready. Do it!”

The fingers and tongue disappeared, making Merlin whimper a little at the loss; but they were soon replaced by the blunt pressure of a very hard cock. 

“All right, sweetheart,” Gwaine said, turning Merlin’s head and kissing him deeply. Merlin mewled as Gwaine slid in easily. He set a steady rhythm and Merlin reveled in the feel of it; but soon grew impatient. 

“Arthur!” he demanded.

“Yes, yes,” Arthur chuckled. “So impatient.” He slid in as Gwaine pulled out, and Merlin whimpered and whined at the feel of them both, filling him so full he almost couldn’t stand it. His neglected cock pulsed and grew a bit harder as his lovers set an off rhythm to each other, one pulling out as the other pulled in. 

All the while, neither’s hands were idle, stroking and caressing and kisses raining down to cover as much of Merlin and each other as they could. It wasn’t long before the rhythm faltered, and first Gwaine and then Arthur fell over the edge, both crying out as they reached completion deep within Merlin. 

The weight of them as they collapsed against him sent Merlin flying, and he joined them in sated bliss.

 

40.

Title: Life, illustrated by...  
Kink(s): Non-genital erogenous zones, tattoo, slight biting but no blood drawn  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon  
Warnings: None, ~~unless past major character death counts as its with a reincarnated Arthur~~

Merlin woke to Arthur’s kisses, the light press and retreat of lips with the occasional rasp of stubble tickling the sensitive skin of his neck as Arthur’s tongue snaked out to trace the bold lines of tattoo that graced the skin. Arthur’s right leg shifted beneath the blankets, his knee pressing into the back of Merlin’s own and nudging until Arthur’s leg lay between Merlin’s splayed thighs. The sure, unrelenting drive of two fingers into his hole was not unexpected, nor the harsh bite delivered to the base of his neck, the hot suction that followed causing Merlin’s eyes to roll back. His cry was more than enough to alert Arthur to Merlin’s consciousness.

“Why here?” Arthur queried, mouth gone soft, as he slowly twisted his fingers inside Merlin, chest squeezing tight with possession at the feel of his own come keeping Merlin slick and ready. Despite being hoarse with sleep Arthur’s words rang loud in the early-morning quiet; he’d never learnt volume control, too used to his every word being an order, a command. 

Merlin pulled his right hand from where it had spent the night tucked under his pillow and reached down to hold himself open whilst his left fisted in the pillowcase. 

“I tried walking away once.” The absent nuzzling on his neck ceased as Arthur tightened his grip, buried fingers stilling, as if worried he might try again, that Arthur might get left behind to suffer the loneliness that Merlin had endured. He moved to withdraw from Merlin before finding his wrist encased by Merlin’s fingers, gently pressing Arthur’s fingers back inside. 

“I tried. I left Camelot,” he’d never returned from the lake, “left England, Europe even.” Merlin focused on the digital clock upon his bedside table and watched the display change, a faulty LED causing time to reverse as the seven became a six again and then a nine. He could have fixed it, but he enjoyed how irritated it made Arthur, keen to hear him rant about something inconsequential once again. Too many years without it had hollowed him. 

“But you can see how well that went.” 

Arthur could never understand what Merlin had lived through; the isolation and self-loathing, the centuries of despair. And cruel, vicious hope that came hand-in-hand with watching the world blaze in fire and blood and death while furtively hoping that this was enough destruction to bring Arthur back.

“But I couldn’t. I couldn’t walk away, not from you. So I stopped trying.”

“And got this,” Arthur nudged the illustrated skin with his nose, revelling in the shudder it elicited. 

“Not for some centuries, but yeah.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Merlin scoffed, “Because it’s your crest?”

“Because it’s ours.” Arthur rewarded Merlin with a third finger, even though the disrespectful bugger didn’t deserve one, pushing his lover further onto his belly so he could rut against him, teasing them both with the feel of his cock dragging slick trails across Merlin’s lower back. “The Chief of Dragons and the Dragon Lord.” 

“Does that mean I can command you?” came the cheeky retort.

‘ _Yes, **yes**_ ’. “You can try.” Arthur bit down again, sending another delicious wave of heat and electricity down Merlin’s spine, pooling at his hips and making his body quake. 

“You really like that don’t you?” Arthur breathed into Merlin’s ear before suckling the fleshy lobe into his mouth. 

Merlin hadn’t known just how sensitive the base of his neck was until the tattoo artist had begun his work; the touch of the needle had been like hooking himself into an electrical outlet. Which he’d accidently done once and did not recommend. He hadn’t even needed to stutter through asking Arthur to bite him there when his king had returned; Arthur had mounted him like a dog, fervent hands hauling him to all fours and spreading his ass and that long-missed cock splitting him wide had had him unable to hold his head up. Arthur had blanketed his back, and sunk his teeth into the swell of vertebrae and skin and ink. Merlin had grunted, come and collapsed onto the bed all at roughly the same time. Later Arthur would smugly claim he’d blacked out from the pleasure but only to cover how terrified he’d been until he’d realised that Merlin’s reaction was one of extreme pleasure. 

“But why there?” 

Merlin waited as Arthur removed his fingers, cock nudging impatient at Merlin’s hole and as Arthur shifted to slide home, he answered,

“It was the last place you ever touched me.”

 

41.

Kink(s): power play, public sex  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Percival, Arthur/Percival/Merlin  
Warning(s): Dubious consent, underage (barely though not really)

Arthur spots the kid first.

But of course, he did. Before Percival got him on his knees, the too-pretty, blue-eyed boy he could bend over and boss around was exactly his type.

“We should take him in,” Percival says as they watch the kid—who can’t be more than eighteen—slip into the alley beside the Soho bar with the American tourist he’s been chatting up for the last five minutes.

“I’ve got a better idea.” Arthur hasn’t looked away since they spotted him. When Percival glances down, Arthur’s hard cock strains against his uniform. “Let’s wait.”

So they do. He indulges Arthur not only because solicitation isn’t really their beat, but also because Percival loves him. If this is what he wants, this is what he gets.

The American emerges first, fixing his fly. As Arthur strides forward, images of the kid sagging against the wall with come dripping down the back of his slim thighs convince Percival this is a very good idea indeed.

“Well, look what we found, Perc.” Arthur makes a show of folding his arms over his chest to heighten his authority. The kid straightens in alarm, and though he’s got a few inches on Arthur, he doesn’t have the strength. Against Percival, Arthur doesn’t either, but this is his show to command. For now.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” Arthur interrupts. “Don’t waste our time denying it.”

Any innocence the kid might’ve worn drops away. His gaze jumps from Arthur’s police uniform to his crotch, and his nostrils flare. “Look, it was just a twenty quid suckjob. You want it? We’ll forget this ever happened.”

When he reaches for his front pocket, however, Arthur grabs his wrist. “You think I’d settle for a few quid?” With a deft move Percival uses on him all the time, Arthur twists the kid around to slam him into the wall. His broad body pins the slimmer form with ease, and as he uses his free hand to reach around and open the kid’s jeans, he bites into the boy’s shoulder.

Crying out in pleasure, the kid jerks, grinding his ass against Arthur’s covered cock. Percival edges closer, but Arthur is oblivious, his movements nearly frantic as he shoves the jeans out of his way.

“Is that your specialty?” Arthur hisses. “Swallowing cock?”

The angle means Arthur can’t see the sly gleam that appears in the boy’s eyes. Percival can.

“Absolutely not.” Just in case Arthur mistakes his meaning, he spreads his legs wider.

Even Percival can barely breathe. When Arthur shoves his fingers into the whore’s mouth, they both groan when the kid sucks on them hard enough to be heard. Arthur lasts like that for mere seconds before he’s burying them inside the ass he wants, twisting his wrist for the scant stretching he needs before the tip of his cock is lined up with the hole. He drives upward, but at the first sound of the kid’s scream, clamps his hand over his mouth to shut him up.

Percival can’t hold off any longer. He pulls out his prick and strokes it at the same tempo of Arthur’s vigorous thrusts. Arthur won’t last. He gets off too easily on this scenario. The whore won’t be long either if his bobbing erection is anything to gauge by.

“Face him toward me,” Percival orders.

The boy furrows his brow in confusion, but Arthur obeys. Arthur always obeys.

Then it’s just a matter of time. Percival holds off until Arthur slams inside the kid one last time, his head dropping back as he comes, but as Arthur falls to his knees to startle the whore by fusing his mouth to the boy’s dripping hole, Percival aims his cock right where he wants. Two pulls at his length, and he shoots onto the whore’s pale stomach, satisfied when it drips down to mat in the dark hair.

“Clean him up, Arthur.”

The kid stands in shock as Arthur crawls to his front and licks away every drop.

Percival levels a warning finger at him. “We see you around here again, we might not be so nice.”

Understanding dawns in those cunning eyes. With a quick tug of his jeans, he’s tucked away and backing off before Arthur can stand again. “Nice is overrated. The name’s Merlin. Don’t see me, just ask around.”

And they would. The ravenous way Arthur climbs up Percival’s body at Merlin’s exodus demands it.

 

42.

Kink(s): Piercings, non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): None

Merlin hissed as he pulled off his shoes, his t-shirt scraping over the small bandage on his right nipple. Arthur popped his head around the corner.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked him. He was still dressed from work, his dress shirt rolled up around his forearms.

Merlin nodded, smiling sheepishly, his hand raising unconsciously to cup his sore nipple.

Arthur's eyes widened. "Did you get it done today then?" He took Merlin's smile for a yes. "Aw, you should have told me! You know I would have came with you."

Merlin shrugged and pulled off his jacket, hanging it up in the hall closet. "You've been super busy with the office, and I had a free hour today." He grinned. "Plus I thought you'd like the surprise."

Arthur licked his lips. "Can I see it?"

Rolling his eyes, Merlin walked towards him for a brief kiss. "Wash your hands," he ordered, pulling away. 

While Arthur was scrubbing, Merlin went to the bathroom and washed his own hands, setting out some supplies. Hunching forward, he peeled off his shirt, and then the white gauze taped to his chest.

There was a silver barbell in his nipple, making it red and swollen. There was still a bit of blood clinging, but otherwise it didn't look that bad. Merlin looked up when Arthur walked into the bathroom.

Wordlessly, Arthur pushed him to sit on the closed toilet seat. He ran gentle fingertips around Merlin's pec, before running the pad of his thumb over the inflamed tip. Merlin twitched under his touch, sensitive. 

"Can I?" Arthur asked, reaching for a cotton ball. Merlin nodded, and tried to keep still as Arthur gently wet his nipple and washed the blood off.

"I'm supposed to take a shower sometime tonight too," he said, and Arthur shrugged, intent on his work. 

Once done, Arthur patted him dry and rested a fingertip on the barbell, tapping twice.

Merlin flinched, the pain mixing with sweet pleasure, not being able to help a low moan as his half-interested cock hardened.

"You're still high on the endorphins, aren't you?" Arthur said, amused, and Merlin's eyes flew open. He nodded, his blood singing beneath his skin.

"We should do something about that then." Arthur had a cat-like grin on his face as he dropped to his knees between Merlin's legs.

"We can't play with it just yet," Merlin warned him, his breath starting to come ragged. "And it takes a couple of months before you can use your mouth. Germs and everything."

"I know, I know," Arthur soothed him, fingers tickling his ribs. "This one, however..."

Arthur trailed off as he leaned forward to close his mouth around Merlin's other nipple, his tongue probing the silver ring there and sucking, hard.

Merlin let his head fall back with a cry, hands raising to clutch the back of Arthur's head, his hips jutting forward. Arthur scooted closer, grabbing him by the ass to pull him to the edge of the toilet seat, the perfect position for Merlin to grind his cock against Arthur's abs. 

Pulling back with a brief tug of his teeth on the ring, Arthur admired his work. Now both of Merlin's nipples were red puckered. "You could have at least got them to match," Arthur said, admonishing, critically eyeing the barbell and the ring.

Merlin laughed, breathless, his hips still twitching forward to get some friction off Arthur's front. "More variety for you to play with this way."

Arthur pursed his lips, but leaned forward to lavish Merlin's nipple with his tongue again, swirling and sucking, worrying the ring, making Merlin gasp and shudder. Arthur reached down to cup him, the pressure making Merlin moan deep in his throat.

"Yes," he said, almost inaudible. "Please, Arthur." 

Without freeing his nipple, Arthur managed to get his jeans unzipped and down enough for Merlin to grind into his hand, whimpering until Arthur finally gripped him properly and started to stroke.

The stimulation was too much, and Merlin pushed Arthur's head away from his nipple. Arthur's mouth was bright red, his eyes feverish. Merlin leaned down to kiss him, to bite his bottom lip as he came with a cry across Arthur's dress shirt.

Arthur was jerking himself off when Merlin opened his eyes, and Merlin leaned down to help, whispering in his ear, "I'm thinking about getting a cock ring." Arthur choked and shuddered into orgasm, spilling over both their hands. 

 

43.

Kink: mutual masturbation aka bukkake  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur and all the Knights  
Warning(s): None.

Winter had at last cast its frozen fingers into the land, bringing nightfall early to Camelot. As the days had shortened, so had the unspoken anticipation grown amongst them. Finally, tonight, on the year’s longest night, a new member would be initiated into their ranks. The initiate was one who deserved to join them the most, though he looked the least of them all a knight. 

It was time for Merlin to join them.

Gwaine walked ahead as they navigated the dark path, only their torches lighting their way. The hike served a dual purpose--to take them to the one place in Camelot with the privacy the ritual required, and to warm them for what lay ahead. Gwaine’s cock responded very well to that. 

Merlin knew only enough to understand the deep importance of the night to come. Gwaine had instructed him to be silent. Uncharacteristically, he’d obeyed.

At last they reached a stone house surrounded by a stone wall. The barest of light seeped through cloth-covered windows. Merlin’s eyes widened as he took in the boots, the chain mail, the other discarded clothing draped over the wall. 

“What--“

Gwaine raised his finger and shook his head. He pulled off his cape and tossed it over a branch, then leaned against the stone wall and pulled off his boots. Merlin watched, mouth agape. Gwaine set aside his sword, then yanked off his shirt and breeches, exposing his fully aroused cock to Merlin’s eyes. Merlin’s gulp was audible.

“Undress, then come inside.” 

Merlin glanced at the doorway. Gwaine winked at Merlin. “Don’t make your Prince wait.”

Merlin reached for the wall to brace himself. Gwaine chuckled.

He opened the door. Light, heat and the gleaming and sweaty naked bodies of his fellow knights beckoned. He breathed in their musty scent and near lost it then, his blood quickening, his mouth dry and his heart full with the power of it all. Leon and Percival, Elyan, Lancelot and their Prince to whom they swore their fealty -- heart, mind, and the very essence of their manhood they would share once more tonight -- nodded, eyes aglitter as he took in Gwaine’s nakedness. 

Gwaine could’ve come right then.

Gwaine took the spot next to Percival. He glanced down at the other knight’s thighs, admired his huge hand on his quite proportionate cock. A shiver passed through him though the cold he’d let in had already snuffed out. Percival closed his eyes and canted his head back, stroking himself. Gwaine’s cock weeped for release, but not yet.

He glanced up, caught his Sire’s eyes; the corner of his mouth quirked, and with a nod to them all, hand still firmly on his own cock, Arthur said, “Merlin. Come in.” 

The door opened.

To a man, those forming the circle were the epitome of the kingdom’s strength and power. Muscles rippled in the torchlight, each cock gorged and ready for release. The man who was to become one of them now was thin, his appearance weak, but he walked in with a bravado that Gwaine admired. He’d proven himself time and again to he who would be king. Though only Gwaine knew the true power behind those bright blue eyes, he knew their Prince believed Merlin had earned his right to be here for his faith, courage, and loyalty alone.

Merlin fell to his knees. His breath came out in ragged puffs, his thin cock as full as the rest of theirs were. As one they all moved closer to Merlin, nearly touching him, their bodies pressed against each other and Gwaine near lost it then. 

Arthur moved in front of Merlin and time drifted in the heat and the smell of sex as they followed their Prince. Hands moved on cocks, deep groans tore from desire-filled throats. Gwaine lost himself at last, his voice joining the others in a primal groan as he too released himself over Merlin, half-smiling over the shock in the former servant’s eyes as his face and chest and back were covered with the come of the Knights of the Round Table. 

His breath still labored, Arthur pulled Merlin to a stand. Eye to eye, Arthur closed his hand on Merlin’s cock and with a few quick, firm strokes brought Merlin to release. 

Arthur raised his hands to Merlin’s trembling shoulders. “Welcome. You are now, and forevermore, my Chosen.”

Then as one they surrounded Merlin and pulled him down into their welcoming midst.

 

44.

 **Kink(s):** Double Penetration  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Gwen/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** Dubcon (Fairies made them do it)

 

The forest blurs around Gwen as she races to catch Arthur’s modest lead. She can hear him laughing, a playful taunt for his slower companions. Gwen throws a smile over her shoulder where Merlin trails just behind her. 

The sound of their passing is absorbed by the trees — muffled under the silky grey mist that smudges the world around them into something quiet, dreamlike. 

She’s almost caught up to Arthur’s flank when he puts on a burst of speed to jump a fallen tree. Her mount follows his over, and she’s temporarily weightless, broad muscle shifting and bunching between her knees. She lands neatly in a ring of mushrooms about twenty meters across at its widest point. 

Arthur circles at the far edge, and when Gwen looks from the ring to his eyes she realises what they’ve done. Wet heat blooms in her gut, making her gasp. 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouts, listing in his saddle. “Stop!”

It’s too late — he’s already in the air, and when he touches ground the mushrooms glow white and they all cry out. Merlin falls from his horse and Gwen stumbles from hers, crawling to his side. 

“Merlin,” she says, checking for injuries. He shakes his head, dazed, catching her hand in his and squeezing. Arthur skids into Gwen’s side, and she flushes molten again — fierce like a summer fever. 

Her eyes are closed when she straightens, and Arthur’s hands on her jaw are a surprise. His mouth is a hot shock over hers. She whimpers, curving into him as if magnetised. 

Merlin grips her waist seconds before Arthur pulls away, snarling. Gwen experiences a moment of rigid fear when Arthur’s hand darts at Merlin, but his fist opens into a flat palm at the last second and Merlin sways, rapturous, when Arthur cups his neck. 

“Merlin,” Arthur hisses, pressing their foreheads together and _squeezing_ at his nape. 

“Merlin,” Gwen agrees, tugging at his tunic, desperate. He turns eagerly to her, his kiss just as hot as Arthur’s but infinitely softer, an unearthly luxury. Behind her, Arthur sets his teeth into her shoulder, a thread of sweet pain that makes her groin clench.

They are too urgent for finesse. They strip her of her riding trousers and shove their own down their thighs, crowding her between them. Arthur flattens a hand over her sternum before sheathing himself firmly in her cunt. Gwen chokes, gripping the curve of his hip to steady herself and reaching for Merlin when he hesitates before her. He’s hot as a brand in her palm, and they’re both sweaty and masculine and _good_ around her, but the pinch of hunger she feels in her belly is mirrored on Merlin’s face, echoed in Arthur’s frantic thrusting. 

“It’s not enough,” she says, panting into Arthur’s neck. “Not enough.”

“I know,” he groans. 

“Merlin,” she says, pulling him forward. “Merlin, please.”

“Oh,” Merlin says, cockhead nudging at the curve of Arthur’s prick where it slides into her. 

“Fuck, Merlin!” Arthur’s fingers tighten on her hips and Gwen whines, hunching until Merlin finally pushes and they’re both there, inside her, clumsy with their combined girth She keens, shaking between them, winning gentle touches that are more electrifying than soothing. 

Arthur grunts; Merlin appears speechless for a long moment, until the breaths he’s noising against Gwen’s throat resolve into a babble of praise: _such a beautiful hot, tight cunt, can you feel us both? Gwen — I, I feel him; want you to suck me and tell me you taste him on my cock, Gwen— I—_

And Gwen is screaming, rocking down on them both, clawing lines down Merlin’s back and clinging to Arthur’s neck as they fuck her through it, the pleasure so bright it burns. It leaves her limp, blinking up into Merlin’s eyes, the way they startle wide when he begins to come, all hitching, helpless noises as he drives deep. 

He falls back on his heels after he slips free, looking pale as a sheet, watching Arthur over her shoulder. She pulls his mouth to hers, biting at his lips, as much a distraction as it is reassurance. 

Arthur rides her like he means to breed her, breath gusting hard through his nose until he stutters to a stop, gritting “Gwen,” through his teeth. 

On instinct she pushes Merlin down onto his back, feeling sweetly hollow and oddly calm holding him steady by the hair at his nape. Arthur climbs carefully over Merlin’s chest and his hand joins Gwen’s on Merlin’s face just before he shoots a spray of come over his ripe, pink mouth.

 

45.

Kink(s): power play, slight bondage, topping from the bottom.  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): Slave!fic, age difference, possibly underage, come eating, barebacking, initial dub-con.

Arthur had denied to do it, but it had been of no use.

The boy —because that’s what he was, a slave boy— had followed Bayard’s orders, and despite the circumstances, their surroundings, and a million reasons Arthur could think of so as not to have to do this, Merlin— they had said he was called as soon as he had been thrust upon Arthur as a gift— had practically forced himself on Arthur not a moment later.

Merlin had pinned Arthur to the bed inside the tent, tied Arthur’s wrists above his head with the muddy cloth that had been previously wrapped around his neck, and then had crawled down over Arthur’s body, lowered his breeches with a single pull, and engulfed Arthur’s cock eagerly into his mouth.

Arthur had objected again then, attempted to sit up straight on the bed, but Merlin had shoved him back down with a hand to his chest, had said, “Lie down and let me. I am here to please you, and the only sounds I want coming out of your mouth are those of pleasure.”

And Arthur had been more than prepared to protest again, because a mere slave was _not_ in any position to give Arthur, the King, any orders, even though the picture they must have made could suggest otherwise, but the retort had died on his lips the moment his blood had rushed southwards as his dick was developed in a wet tight heat.

The boy wasn’t very gracious but he was more skilled than Arthur would have imagined, despite his early age, and he sucked at Arthur’s cock as if he had been born for that task only. He furrowed his bow and concentrated solely on drawing of Arthur as much pleasure as possible, making him grow hard in no time.

Taking a small jar of oil from his jacket pocket, Merlin divested himself from his clothes until he was straddling Arthur’s thighs, completely nude, and then unashamedly poured the oil onto Arthur's dick and smeared it behind himself. As Arthur watched Merlin work, he mused how he should be the one in control here, and not have a slave manhandling him around. How he should grab a hold of the boy, plant him facepalm on the mattress and fuck him dry. But then, he wouldn't say it aloud, but it was exhilarating for once to leave the hard work to someone else.

Merlin's moves, although a bit mechanic, made Arthur hot, and when he supported his weight with one hand on Arthur's chest and then impaled himself down on Arthur's dick, Arthur forgot about thinking altogether.

Merlin had not the body of a man as of yet, but he was appealing in his own way, he was easy on the eye when you looked at him more than once, and the rocking of his hips was sensual for a boy; Arthur could see why Bayard would lay with a young lad like Merlin.

He moved like he wanted it, but Arthur could see it was all an act. Merlin's cock wasn't hard, but considering it wasn't entirely flaccid either, Arthur decided to stimulate it and see what happened. He swung his arms from above his head down to rest over his chest, and then used his cupped hands tied by the neckerchief to fist the boy's dick in between his palms. Merlin, taken aback, flickered his eyes to Arthur, but his rhythm barely faltered as his cock rubbed up and down firmly under Arthur's touch, swelling against his will at the attention.

Maybe Arthur wasn't completely in control, and maybe he didn't knew the kind of men Merlin lied with, but he would not like to be one more of them. He started to meet Merlin's thrusts, and smiled inwardly at the look in the boy's face, at the reactions of his body, the change of his breathing, that soon dragged Arthur closer to orgasm.

When it happened, and Arthur spilled inside the boy, Merlin didn't stop hitching his hips, the same way he had not when his dick had suddenly pulsed in Arthur's touch; when he had shut his eyes and bit his lips, and his whole body had gone taut and tense in Arthur's arms. Arthur's hands were wet with Merlin's come, but as soon as Merlin freed him, he didn't waste time, he bowed his head and licked Arthur's fingers clean, in a way that, if Arthur could, would have had him hardening again.

The next morning, after a long heated conversation with Bayard, Arthur took the boy home with him.

 

46.

Kink(s): power play (authority figure), non-genital erogenous zones, voyeurism (sort of), tentacles (brief)  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, Arthur/Uther (sort of)  
Warning(s): Consent issues, incest (there's no actual sex between Arthur and Uther, but they're definitely both there, and there's a sexual element in it for Arthur), some violence.

Arthur’s fingers are sweating on the cold floor; his knees might be, too.

‘Father,’ he says, uncertain, and a warm hand covers his neck, pushes him down almost gently. He follows, because disobeying orders is what gets people killed; Arthur’s learned that the hard way, washing too many bloodstains off his hands when he should have been playing footy with his mates. 

Being a demon hunter involves a lot of relentless training, but this drill is a little out of the ordinary, even for them. Still, he’d agreed to it. But then he hadn’t realised which incubus his father intended to use. 

‘ _Well?_ ’ says Uther, standing up, never one for patience in the face of evil (or, let’s be honest, in the face of anything other than a stiff scotch). 

‘What, this is it? A cellar? After three months in a bottle-sized prison, I would at least expect a downy bed. And room service. Possibly a Jacuzzi, but I’m willing to negotiate.’ Arthur doesn’t need to see Uther to feel his surprise. ‘What do you think, Arthur?’ Merlin adds.

Arthur closes his eyes. He really should have lied a little harder about how easily he’d captured this particular demon. ‘Seriously, shut up and get on with it,’ he mutters. He’s never met a demon this talkative. Ever.

‘Oh, yes, we shouldn’t disappoint daddy, now should we, Arthur?’ Merlin says, amused. ‘You’re such a good boy.’ 

Arthur flushes, abruptly and deeply, and turns around, rising up – 

‘ _Arthur_ ,’ his father says, ‘control yourself.’ And then Uther’s crouching, pressing Arthur’s forehead against his soft leather shoe, keeping him steady. Arthur’s throat closes up, unexpectedly, and he focusses on breathing. 

‘You know, if you let your son get out and have some fun every once in a while, he might actually have a sense of humour. I’m reasonably sure he’s got one, somewhere. In fact, he might also be less receptive to this.’ 

Arthur wants to wring Merlin’s neck for bringing up his sexual inexperience in front of his father (seriously, once you know about demons, it’s really hard to trust anyone), and he’s not quite prepared for the sensation of something firm and a little rough sweeping its way up his thigh. And Arthur hates Merlin, he really does (he has hated demons since the day he learned his mother died protecting him from one), but he hates even more that part of him doesn’t hate this at all. 

And some incubi are good at manipulating minds, but Merlin seems to read his every thought. It’s very annoying. He feels Merlin’s smile brush his mind; realises that the cellar with the runes disappeared and they’re on a soft, four-poster bed, and that’s definitely Merlin’s tongue licking at the vulnerable inside of his thighs, and when teeth sink in, Arthur viciously bites down on a moan, his cock already growing heavy. 

_Cheat_ , he thinks, willing Merlin to hear, holding very still under the weight of his father’s hand. ‘Daddy’s boy,’ Merlin says, and Arthur doesn’t think of that night, of all the things Merlin learned about him, couldn’t shut up about – everything, his whole life, Arthur has no secrets left to give. Arthur isn’t quite sure how he made it out alive, how he won in the moment he should have died (he doesn’t, except there was that second he felt his loneliness echoed back at him, so thick he almost couldn’t breathe). 

He’s supposed to pay attention to the way Merlin is warping his mind, so gives into it, pleasure sharp everywhere in his body as Merlin continues sucking bruises just below his balls, where his skin is most sensitive. Magic tentacles sweep over his lower stomach, his nipples, along his spine, reminding him of the hand at his neck, steadying, firm, and Christ, that shouldn’t turn him on, but. ‘It’s OK,’ Merlin murmurs, because he’s a fucking demon, and that’s probably his job.

‘It’s OK,’ Merlin repeats against his skin, and Arthur’s body has gone pliant against his will, or so he tells himself, and he realises suddenly that this is going to be his life, Uther never does these exercises just once, they’ll be doing this over and over.

‘Please, it’s OK, I’ve got you,’ Merlin almost whines, like he _cares_ , the liar, and fucking nuzzles at the top of his spine, licks where his father’s hand touches his skin. 

‘ _Such a good boy._ ’

And Arthur comes, untouched, and he is absolutely certain that Merlin might not be able to take his life here, but he’ll kill Arthur just the same. 

 

47.

 **Kink(s):** Power imbalance/powerplay  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None

Tears cloud his vision but Merlin doesn’t bother wiping them away.

He blindly navigates the school, his only goal to put as much space between him and the locker room as possible. He doesn’t care who sees him, doesn’t see the point in caring. By the end of the day, they’ll all know, anyways. Everyone will be gossiping about the way he’d –

In front of _everyone_. His face heats up, his hands shaking at his sides, and it only gets worse when a voice from behind calls, “ _Merlin_!”

Panic wells in his chest and he doesn’t even think, just starts running. He can’t face Arthur. Not after what he did; probably not ever again.

He makes it to the art room – blessedly empty – but Arthur catches up before Merlin can bar the door. It slams shut behind him and then Merlin is suddenly against it, unable to get away. He struggles, anyways, of course, but it’s pointless. Arthur isn’t a star athlete for nothing; he easily thwarts every escape attempt until he somehow gets Merlin’s wrists pinned against the wood.

“Let go!” Merlin tries to kick at him but Arthur thwarts that, too, and of course he doesn’t listen.

“Merlin! _Calm down_.”

The tone is similar to Arthur’s captain voice but it’s somehow more. This isn’t just a captain talking to his player. It’s not a classmate talking to his equal.

This is a Dom – _Merlin’s Dom_ – giving an order and Merlin is helpless to disobey. He stops struggling immediately, relaxing until only Arthur’s strength is keeping him upright. Arthur hums, so obviously pleased.

“You bastard,” Merlin whispers, humiliation burning hot in his chest again.

The first time had been an accident, Merlin’s sure of it, but Arthur knows now. He knows and he’s still doing it; using Merlin’s own instincts against him.

“Hush,” Arthur says gently, nuzzling at his jaw.

It feels unimaginably good and Merlin finds himself whining, baring his throat to give Arthur better access. With their bodies pressed together, Arthur’s warmth seeping into him, it’s hard to remember why he wants to fight; why he would want to do anything but submit and give himself over to Arthur’s care.

“You didn’t give me a chance,” Arthur says apropos of nothing. He pushes a thigh against Merlin’s erection, nosing at the outer-shell of his ear. “I knew, you know, the first time I saw you. I knew you were mine.”

His teeth scrape across sensitive skin and Merlin gasps, hips jerking forward. The friction makes him moan and Arthur, encouraged, licks over the same spot. The sound that escapes Merlin probably isn’t human but he’s too turned on to care and Arthur seems to like it, anyways.

“I knew,” Arthur repeats, “but I waited. I wanted you to come to me. To choose me. And you just…in front of everyone. But then you ran. You didn’t give me a chance.”

The reminder is like a bucket of cold water, bringing Merlin back to reality. He tries to turn away, to hide, but Arthur doesn’t let him. His hand cups Merlin’s cheek, forcing him to look at Arthur again.

Those blue eyes hold no mockery, like Merlin was so afraid of when he ran from the locker room. _Pride_ stares back at him and it leaves him breathless.

“You were good,” Arthur assures him quietly. “You were my good boy and now everyone knows it.”

Merlin always knew that he’d need affection, reassurance. He never thought of anyone saying those words to him, though, calling him a good boy. He never thought he’d like it.

He does. It does things to him, being told that he’s Arthur’s good boy. For the first time since Arthur caught him, he reaches for his Dom, clinging as he chokes out, “ _Arthur_.”

Arthur understands. He closes the distance between them, kissing Merlin roughly as his hands fall to Merlin’s waist, holding him tight as his thigh rubs hard against Merlin’s erection. The pressure is exquisite; Merlin whines, letting Arthur take over the kiss as Arthur uses his grip to roll Merlin’s hips against him.

Everything is out of his control, all Merlin can do is hold on as Arthur takes him apart and he _loves it_. He’s already so close, just from Arthur’s words and his teasing, and it feels mere seconds have gone by before he’s whining into Arthur’s mouth, begging.

Arthur pulls away, setting his mouth right against Merlin’s ear, growling as he commands, “Come.”

Merlin gasps and does.

 

48.

Kink(s): tattoos/body piercing  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): None

Arthur first sees him in the pouring rain while waiting on his bus to arrive. The man is running down the sidewalk, water splashing around his trainers. His dark hair is plastered to his head, and his t-shirt is completely soaked through.

What grabs Arthur's attention most is the dragon tattoo on his left arm. It snakes up, wrapping around from wrist to elbow, disappearing beneath his sleeve, and almost looks alive.

Lightning flashes just as the man looks up at him, and for a second, his eyes seem to glow golden hot.

He disappears around a corner, and Arthur is left breathless in the rain.

*

He sees the man again at the grocer's, and this time he notices the small black rod through his earlobe. There's another tattoo peaking above the collar of his t-shirt, leading to his long, pale neck.

Arthur takes a step forward but the man turns onto another aisle. By the time Arthur reaches it, he's gone.

*

The third time, Arthur gets a name.

He's standing in line at his favorite coffee shop when he looks up to see the same man two people ahead of him. Anticipation and nervousness shiver through him, and he doesn't know what he's doing until he does it. As soon as the man has his coffee and is headed towards the door, Arthur steps out of line and into his path.

The man stops and just stares at him, as though he'd been expecting it.

"Sorry," Arthur says. "But I noticed your tattoos, and – and I was thinking about getting one myself. I don't want to end up regretting it, so I was wondering if you could recommend a shop?"

The man smiles, slow and knowing, and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a business card and hands it over.

"Come by tomorrow," he says, and is out the door before Arthur can respond.

Arthur looks down at the card. _Merlin's Magical Tattoos and Piercings_ , it reads.

He memorizes the address and then carefully tucks it into his wallet.

*

The shop is small but clean, and when Arthur walks through the door the man is the only one there.

"So are you Merlin?" Arthur asks, leaning against the front counter.

"I am." Merlin smiles. "Do you still want that tattoo?"

Arthur reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sketch he'd drawn the night before. "On my hip."

Merlin eyes the sketch and nods, letting out a breath. "Okay. Follow me."

*

The dragon is small, different than the one on Merlin's arm. It's more like an emblem, deep red and gold, like it's made from the embers of a long-forgotten fire.

Merlin mouths over it, long fingers splayed against Arthur's hips. He looks up, wicked mischief in his eyes, and bites at the skin just above it. Arthur groans, arching his back, and buries one hand in Merlin's hair.

"Stop teasing," he murmurs, and Merlin laughs.

His mouth is hot and wet as it envelops Arthur's cock, taking him down to the base. Arthur closes his eyes and twists his free hand in Merlin's sheets, trying not to thrust. Merlin pulls off, licking at the head, and then crawls up into Arthur's lap. He's still open and wet from earlier, and as he sinks down Arthur drags him into a deep, lazy kiss.

Merlin tangles their fingers together, and Arthur feels like he's finally whole.

*

He's waiting for the bus when the bottom falls out, rain pouring down and soaking him through.

Arthur turns his face up to the sky and smiles.

 

49.

Kinks: Voyeurism, double penetration, m/m/m threesome (could be an argument made for borderline public sex too).  
Pairings: Gwaine/Merlin/Percival, voyeur!Arthur  
Warnings: None

Arthur locks the stable doors, and steps across the flagstones to the open area where the tack is kept, where he can already hear murmuring and soft laughter. He peeks, anticipation already tightening his gut. 

Sitting on a pile of blankets against the wall is Percival, shirtless, smiling, with Merlin in his arms, twisted-up and kissing. Gwaine walks on his hands and knees over the blanket pile to straddle the pair of them, and the kiss becomes heated, more complicated - lips bitten, tongues sliding to soothe and taste the little noises that eke out. Merlin is clutching the other two, a fierce delight on his face, and he rocks between them shamelessly.

Arthur, silent in the doorway, has to palm himself at the sight, even this early on. Merlin has always had this effect on him.

By the time they're bare, Arthur has his cock in hand, trying to keep control. Gwaine and Percival have Merlin spread out between them, sharing him - so that every move he makes in reaction to one is caught and turned to pleasure by the other. He moans, breathy, gulping back what noise he can but unable to stop all of it. Percival's fingers slide slick-slip-wet in and out, Gwaine bracing Merlin to stop his writhing from narrowing the space between his thighs, and as Arthur watches Percival adds another finger. 

Surely four of Percival's fingers should be too much for anyone to take, but Merlin is panting, trying to get leverage to take _more_. Percival's eyes are blown black, wide, utterly focused on the task of preparation, and Gwaine is stroking himself with Merlin's head almost in his lap where he kneels on the blankets, free arm stretched to hold Merlin still. 

Merlin nudges closer, and mouths at Gwaine's cock. Arthur has to bite his cheek to keep from making noise. Gwaine sweetly cups Merlin's face, holding him steady to do as he pleases. Percival makes a deep rumbling noise, hoisting Merlin up onto his knees and pulling his fingers free.

'What do you want?' Percival asks Merlin. Gently, with Gwaine's help, he pulls Merlin free from his occupation. Strings of fluid shine like crystal for a moment between Merlin's plush bottom lip and the head of Gwaine's cock, and then Merlin's gasp breaks them free. 'Tell us,' Percival pushes, fondness in his tone laced with heat, lust. 

'You could let him fuck you,' Gwaine suggests. 'Let me take you after, fill you up twice.'

'No,' Merlin grits out, licking the red, stretched corners of his mouth. 'You - I won't last,' he pants. His head hangs low for a moment, then he looks up. In the straw-dusty air cut with shadows and stripes of brilliant morning sun, he's haloed like some carnal parody of an angel. 'Both of you,' he says hungrily. 'Take me together, _please_.'

Arthur can't help his strangled groan, but the three he's watching are too caught up in each other to notice, it seems. Percival's fingers, still slick and wet with liniment, are already seeking and stretching Merlin further, as Gwaine pushes him to kneel back into Percival's space, kisses his face frantically. 

When Percival slides home, Merlin's face breaks into a sweet, satisfied happiness, and his fingers tremble and clench on Gwaine's shoulders. When Gwaine adds his own fingers, then kneels up and enters Merlin completely, Merlin seems to melt against Percival's broad chest. 

They cradle him, push him, and he takes it so beautifully Arthur is left breathless at the sight, finally touching himself the way he wants. He is rough with himself, watching how Gwaine and Percival kiss and thrust together, such glorious teamwork, starting to unravel as their pleasure spikes. 

Merlin comes first, wet, gorgeous, seeming-slow, shaking to pieces. Then Gwaine and Percival, and Arthur can't make out the sequence of things any more, too taken up with his own overwhelming need, stripping his cock furiously. Everything narrows down to light, shadow, the slick shine of Merlin's release over the softness of skin, and Arthur reaches his peak and has to hang onto the doorframe to prevent himself from falling to his knees, overwhelmed. 

When he comes back to himself, they are dressed, filing past him as if they had only met here innocently to groom their mounts. Merlin winks at him, last in line, and his hand slides across Arthur's bare, besmirched belly. He licks his fingers as he walks away. 

 

50.

 _Necrophiliac love: the only sort that is pure._ —Wittkop, The Necrophiliac

 **Kink(s)** : double penetration, necrophilia  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** necrophilia (with a purpose lol?); suicide

“Another necrophilic abuse discovered! Grave Robber Special!”

The headline claims to reveal more than the article actually does (“…abuse relates largely to another group of corpses of young- to middle-aged men”) but it’s pathetic they don’t have more by now, really, two years and three months into it. Merlin can fill them in: the men and boys were all blond and blue-eyed in life, with either a reputation for arrogance or professional athleticism.

“ _Inhumane_ crime series,” he reads, snorts, tossing the paper into a garbage bin, revolted. Precisely this is why it won’t work; he’s got to be extra careful they won’t catch him. Were would he be if they did, he, the _oh_ so vile monster?

“Inhumane,” he mutters, making his way home, the anger dissipating with each step (excitement growing, hot and fast). He sheds his clothes, stepping into the naturally cool basement, and gives himself to his latest companion. “Inhumane,” he repeats, softer, as he lies on the stretcher to wrap his limbs around the icy calmness of Joseph’s, thumbing along Joseph’s dry, pale lips.

No magic, tonight. Just the comfort of a handsome man who could’ve been him but isn’t. No cock, mouth or fingers, either. Merlin’s just indulgent, tonight, to the both of them.

He tries to still the weltschmerz each of his breaths are bleeding by being _inhumane_ , giving love and comfort to whom the humane ones robbed of his worth with the loss of his life, tossing him away like garbage. 

-

After Merlin scoured the surface of the earth (decades, centuries, a millenium) and didn’t find him, he began looking underground, because:

_“You’ll be there, should I need you.”_

_“I will?”_

_“You will.”_

Words so old, and Merlin swore to make them true. He remembers too much to sleep well, too little to recognise.

That’s okay, though. He feels he’ll know the moment when it’s there.

-

And there it is at last, the eighth after Joseph. It feels unreal when it happens, Merlin’s waited so long.

He brims with barely restrained anticipation stirring low and potent in his belly as he slides his hands up the calves, soft with the loss of muscle through begun decay—soft, supple to knead between his fingers, doughy. This one’s promising. Merlin’s blood sings with it as his eyes trace the unique jaw bone: strong and square, yet strangely soft, rounded. He’s promising. Special. Special. His hands, big and capable, lie with the palms upturned, the left wrist showing the bandage of a successfully slit wrist.

 _Suicide_ , Merlin remembers hearing at the funeral, _and a letter proclaiming he needed to find someone._

Death is as attached to this man as Merlin becomes as he erratically begins filling the supple, virgin hole between those plump cheeks: death has made him even more beautiful, angelic, like a Greek statue of wax dipped in blue-grey ash, held over fire, beginning to melt as the eyes and cheeks sink.

Merlin wants to give this man everything: wants to make him full he won’t bloat from decomposition but Merlin himself, and he lets his eyelids flutter close, holding onto those still, still legs—watches the static body being jostled, head banging back against the stretcher with the delicious sound of utter passivity, an irregular _thump, thump, thump._

Merlin wants to make him so full and he does: magic bleeds in tears from his lids and spills in endearments from his mouth, and there’s a second cock like his own prodding at the man’s flesh, stretching it wide and obscene. The further it gapes open the more it of that sour milk-rotten flesh odour that incenses Merlin’s guts like wildfire. Merlin lets his magic fuck furiously inside while he snaps his hips hard, fast, deep, spearing him with the heat of his two cocks, seeking to suffuse the ice-insides with a sliver of life.

The thudding grows louder, the man’s head snapping sickly back and forth like a doll’s, hole stretching impossibly around Merlin, accommodating, loving. The pleasure of it burns white behind Merlin’s eyes—his hips tilt—stutter—shove—halt—

And when he spills and gives his life inside, Merlin knows it’s _him_ : the head snaps up suddenly, a hoarse voice saying, “I’ve found you,” and as the man’s eyes snap open, they trap Merlin in a sky of blue. 

“Arthur,” he breathes, remembering at last.

 

51.

Kink(s): voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None really

Nearly two weeks underway, they still hadn’t quite reached their destination, and Gwaine found himself stuck with guard duty in the small village where they had taken up refuge for the night. Finding this all extremely unfair, Gwaine was left awake and painfully anxious, trying to work out how he could manage a wank without leaving Arthur’s sleeping place undefended. What bothered him still more was the knowledge that even if he did somehow manage to obtain some privacy, it wouldn’t be enough to soothe that sore need. Percival was a good friend, and every now and then he’d oblige Gwaine and let him tag along when Percival left the tavern back in Camelot with a girl. After all, it wasn’t as if Gwaine would get in the way, he’d just watch from the sidelines. His needs were quite simple, really. …Except when they were camped out here in no man’s land.

After enough discomfort, Gwaine decided to seek whatever relief he could. After looking around to make sure the narrow village streets were still just as quiet as they had been all night, he quietly ducked into the doorway of the tiny house he’d been guarding. There was a small alcove just inside the door, blocked off from the bigger room where Arthur slept, Merlin along with him.

But Gwaine’s hand paused before it could reach its mark, when he heard a sound come from the larger room inside. When he heard it again, instinctive concern erupted in Gwaine’s mind. The soft, low groan made him worry whether both Arthur and Merlin were still well and safe, and he moved farther inside to make sure.

One small, quick step was all he needed to see into the small room past the doorway, half-lit by moonlight trickling in through the single window. Two beds nearly filled up the tiny room, and two figures stood at the opposite side of the nearer bed. Even shrouded in shadows, Gwaine could make out the familiar dark mop of Merlin’s hair and the lanky form of his body where it was pressed over the bed. It wasn’t hard to tell he was naked, and he was completely pinned between the edge of the bed and the tall, broad form of Arthur behind him. The moonlight illuminated his ringed hand gripping Merlin’s hips with enough force to hold him in place. His mussed, sweaty blonde hair flopped over his forehead as his head stayed tilted downwards, towards where he gave rushed, sharp movements that pressed Merlin farther and tighter against the bed and wrung the same low, wrecked sounds from him that Gwaine had mistaken for something much, much different. 

Merlin and Arthur’s gasping, panting breaths combined to fill the room with heavy, humid air that Gwaine felt settling against him and then reaching down to the most desperate, private place deep within him. Arthur threw his head back, his lips clutching around a soundless exclamation, and that place inside Gwaine clenched almost painfully. Gwaine’s hand was urgently working his own member before he’d consciously given it permission, while he watched Merlin’s body pressed farther forward by Arthur’s hand and his reckless, focused strength. Merlin’s body bowed against the shape of the bed, consumed and dominated.

There was a brief moment as Arthur’s head lowered again, when Gwaine thought his eyes may have found him lurking there. For a brief, searing moment, Gwaine thought their gazes met, but Arthur’s momentum didn’t falter. Just as quickly, Merlin fell into gasping and writing, clutching the bed sheets as his climax spilled over the blankets. Arthur’s head dipped towards Merlin, his harsh breath against the back of the other man’s neck, and his movements slowed just enough to let Merlin shift in his hold. A few seconds later Gwaine was stripping his own cock in a near frenzy, as one of Merlin’s legs hooked up around Arthur and Arthur’s hands held their now face-to-face bodies together, and Merlin made a high, desperate sound that Gwaine could guess meant Arthur was inside him again. As Gwaine’s peak rushed up fast, the tiny semblance of sense remaining yanked him back from the doorway in case he made any noise when it happened. The last thing he saw were Merlin’s fingers clamping in Arthur’s hair as Arthur’s mouth claimed the base of his neck. The first thing Gwaine thought after the most satisfying orgasm he could remember in a long time – So that’s why Merlin wears neck scarves every day.

 

52.

Kink(s): cross dressing , public sex, exhibitionism, h/c  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

The pain meds dulled things enough so Merlin didn't care how he managed to be where he was, which was good considering his mom sat vigil next to him for the last few hours. 

"Didn't need to come. " Merlin slurred out. Did he mention the drugs were good?

"My son's injured in hospital. Of Course I'll sit with him." His mom flinched at her choice of words before continuing. "Besides I had to verify this young man of yours."

Merlin smiled at her, not acknowledging the inappropriate balloon bouncing behind her head. "An accident mom."

"I know." She petted his arm like he spoke silliness for trying to convince her. "Anyone who fusses that much over you, isn't going to hurt you on purpose. I just wish you both had been more careful."

_  
"Damn it. Don't stop." Merlin's skirt had been hiked up his thighs, and the boxer briefs pulled low. Dirty filthy sex in the back hall of Avalon wasn't today's agenda, but he wasn't complaining. Or rather, he was complaining about the blond idiot who stopped rubbing himself against Merlin for unknown idiot reasons._

_"Bossy for serving wench. Aren't you?" The blond pinched Merlin's arse, pulling him close again._

_"And you're a big tease for a pratty git, but we can't all be perfect." Merlin rolled his hips enjoying the bare skin against the most supple leather trousers in existence._

_"I thought I heard something. I was trying to defend your honor." The blond smirked and went back to his very impressive grinding._

_"You can look out for it after you bend me over this table." Merlin countered._

_"Aww. I wanted to blow you." The man whispered and nibbled at Merlin's ear in that way that made toes tingle. "Never thought I'd be able to suck a serving wench's cock. Seems like a shame to miss the opportunity."_

_Merlin moaned a little louder than intended at the idea of a blond head buried under his skirt, then winked at the security camera._

_When Merlin stilled a second at the thought of getting a copy, the blond took the opportunity to drop to his knees. A hot set of well kissed lips wrapped around the tip of Merlin's leaking cock and sucked so hard Merlin's brain moved. The hover feeling only lasted long enough for Merlin to stop caring about the cameras and start caring about the steady licks and wanton little slurping sounds of a man who loved to suck cock. Maybe even professionally? Because god it felt so good when those lips reached the base and the tip was swallowed down. No one had ever…"Fuck. I'm going to come."_

_The man pulled off slow and horsely declared "Not yet." before shifting Merlin's backside further up on the table and raising his legs up off the floor. The briefs discarded, Merlin's legs spread far enough for the man to tongue and suck at Merlin's balls, and just lower. Fuck, tightening and loosening quivering skin being pulled and stretched by exploring lips, and all Merlin could see of what was happening was the ripple of a head below a skirt._

_Merlin shifted back so more of his weight would be on the small tarp covered table, and perhaps so that this man's tongue could work even lower, to open him up for a good proper exploration.  
_

Merlin stared at the 'I'll kiss it better' balloon, no doubt from Gwaine. "It's backside survivor's guilt."

The blond walked in with a cup for Merlin's mom. 

That was nice of him.

"Why are you still here? I don't even know your name?" Merlin said his thoughts out loud. He did say the drugs were good. Right?

"Merlin!" His mom tapped his arm in admonishment.

Out of his leather and into scrubs, the gorgeous blond held out his hand, "I'm Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin smiled. "Nice to meet you. I'd get up but I fell through a glass table." 

He had five stitches in the right cheek, and currently laid with his barely covered arse in the air.

Arthur's eyes darted quickly between the balloons and the bandaged parts of Merlin before stoically clearing his throat. "I'm sure you'll feel better soon." 

Mom had the decency to hide her snorting giggle at Arthur's red flush, Merlin didn't.

 

53.

Kink: public sex  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: None

The pavement is hard against Merlin’s knees, but he can’t stop—doesn’t _want_ to stop—with Arthur’s fingers digging into his hair, urging him on. Merlin pushes back, opening his mouth to take Arthur’s cock in deeper. He drags his nails down Arthur’s thighs, feeling them shake with the effort to keep still under his touch.

Club music pounds from the brick wall behind them, loud enough that Merlin can feel the bass vibrating in his breastbone. It’s still not enough to drown out the rushing in his ears. In the dim light he can’t make out Arthur’s face, but he doesn’t have to. He knows what Arthur looks like when Merlin’s mouth is on him: eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth open and slack as he pants desperately for air.

The back door to the club creaks open noisily, and Arthur freezes, his muscle tensing up. Light from the club beams out in a wide swath, missing them by a few feet. They know this game too well to be caught. Someone steps out from the club and lights a cigarette, the end glowing orange in the light. Arthur doesn’t move. Merlin stays silent but keeps moving, keeps working his mouth over Arthur’s cock.

“Shit shit shit,” Arthur says hoarsely, groaning and biting hard on his knuckle to stifle the sounds he’s making. His voice is just loud enough to reach Merlin’s ears and no more. 

The smell of smoke wafts over. They’re still in the shadows, too far away for anyone to see them unless someone looked right at them. Or only if someone knew where to look. Being caught is never part of the plan, but plans sometimes go awry, and this drives Merlin harder. The thrill of being caught—of being caught _with Arthur_ —sets his blood thrumming. He presses a slow kiss to the underside of Arthur’s cock, feeling Arthur’s hands tighten in his hair. He swallows Arthur down as deep as he can go, keeping him there in his mouth until the smoker stubs out his cigarette and wrenches the back door open again in a screech of metal. The flash of light as the door opens illuminates Arthur’s face: broken, wrecked, and desperate with the need to come.

Merlin draws his mouth away. He pulls back, settling onto his heels to look up at Arthur. He waits.

“Come _here_ ,” Arthur says as soon as the door is closed, his voice throaty and raw. Merlin is hauled up by his shirt, Arthur’s grip shaky and uncoordinated as Merlin gets to his feet. Arthur stares at Merlin for a moment, his throat working soundlessly, and then kisses him with no finesse, just a raw scraping of his mouth against Merlin’s. 

Merlin breaks away first, panting softly, their breaths mingling as he touches their foreheads together. He kisses Arthur once more, soft and gentle, and feels Arthur’s knees buckle beneath them. Merlin eases out of Arthur’s grip to place his hands on Arthur’s hips. Merlin turns him to face the brick wall, Arthur’s body moving easily under his hands. Merlin steps close, pressing them together, and wraps a hand around Arthur’s cock, jerking him off hard and fast. 

“Merlin, oh _fuck_ ,” Arthur moans, arching back against him, forgetting to stifle his noise. It all falls away from him when he’s close—even the risk of being caught—and nothing else matters to Merlin right now than catching Arthur after he falls apart.

“Come on, Arthur. Let go,” Merlin says quietly, his chest against Arthur’s back, lips brushing the back of Arthur’s neck. “I’ve got you.”

Merlin feels Arthur shivers at the sound of his voice. He keeps stroking him and stroking him, pulling it all out of him until Arthur comes, giving it all over.

 

54.

Kink: bodyswap  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: None

A familiar voice wakes Arthur up. He groans and turns on his back, meeting the court physician’s annoyed gaze.

“Gaius?”

“Come on, Merlin, you’ll be late again.”

Arthur frowns, sits up and suddenly his brain takes his surroundings in. He’s in Merlin’s small room, in his small bed. He looks at his bony fingers and runs them through his unruly hair. His breath catches as he realizes… he’s in Merlin’s small body, as well. He stares at Gaius for a second before dropping back on the bed with a sigh.

“No sleeping in, Merlin. Get up and eat your breakfast, Arthur will—”

“I know,” Arthur says sternly, but startles as it’s not his own voice he hears. He clears his throat and tries again, his tone a little softer than before. “I’ll go to Arthur right away,” he says as he throws the covers off himself and looks around for a change of clothes.

“No breakfast?”

“No breakfast,” Arthur confirms. Merlin deserves to find himself in a starving body when he fixes that mess of his. 

Arthur ignores Gaius’ further protests and walks out of the physician’s quarters as soon as he’s dressed, almost running to his own chambers. He slams the doors open and shut as he strides in.

“What have you done this time— Merlin?” 

“I-I can explain,” Merlin stutters.

Arthur’s frozen at the foot of his bed. It’s weird enough to see his own body spread out on the bed, flushed and sweating, cock in hand, but hearing his own voice pitched so high and breathless… it’s a tad too much.

“Do so, then,” Arthur demands. Merlin bites his lip.

“I’ve had a bit of a... misunderstanding with my magic, it appears.”

“How so?”

“I was... thinking, last night.” Merlin blushes. Arthur suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at both what thinking actually meant and how ridiculous is Merlin making him look. “About...”

“Speak, Merlin. We don’t have all day.”

“About wanting to see you,” Merlin blurts out. 

“And?”

“My magic gave me the opportunity to... feel you, instead,” he says and squeezes his – Arthur’s – cock lightly. 

“How is that even possible? Are you not in control of your own magic? You know you have to be careful—”

“I know! Do you think I’m an idiot?” Merlin spits out indignantly. Arthur raises an eyebrow and Merlin groans, letting himself sink in the pillows. “I can fix it. I just woke up here and...”

“Decided to seize the opportunity.” Merlin doesn’t answer. “Go on, then.” At that, Merlin raises his head and looks at him quizzically. “Seize it.”

Merlin hesitates for a second. His hand creeps back to his cock and he tugs slowly, looking at Arthur. Arthur licks his lips and Merlin lets out a breath he’s been holding in.

“That’s so… strange,” Arthur says, his – Merlin’s – voice sounding a bit huskier than he’s intended.

“Figures you’d get all hot and bothered by watching yourself,” Merlin says and his wicked grin pulls oddly on Arthur’s features.

“Can you blame me?” Arthur asks as he grabs the board of the bed and leans forward, his gaze following the slide of Merlin’s hand on his cock. “Look at what you did,” he motions forward and back to himself, “just by picturing me.”

Merlin whimpers quietly and his hand starts moving faster. Arthur walks around and sits next to him, brushing a few golden strands off his face. He then traces his own lips with a finger and lets out a small moan as Merlin sucks it in.

“So, so strange,” he whispers again as he adds another finger and fucks his mouth, thinking that that’s what he looks like when he sucks on Merlin’s cock. He removes the fingers and leans in for a kiss, hesitating only for a second before he lets their lips meet.

The kiss is both familiar and not. He’s not used to nibbling on his own lips, but the stuttering breath he feels against his mouth is so very Merlin. He licks into his mouth and lets his wet fingers circle a nipple, knowing it’s just what sets him off. Merlin moans in the kiss and Arthur feels his hips rising off the bed rhythmically as he rides his orgasm out.

“I’ll fix this,” Merlin whispers once he’s caught his breath.

“Not yet,” Arthur replies before unlacing his breeches.

 

55.

Kink(s): bodyswap, power imbalance, voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, side Merlin/Uther, allusions to Arthur/Uther  
Warning(s): underage (Merlin is 16)

He’d seen his father with his bed slave. 

Uther is older now, not the warrior he once was, but still taut with muscle and virile, as he’d pounded into that pale arse, each thrust punctuated by a _squelch_.

Arthur had not known the meaning of _wanting_ until then. He’d stayed, watching, until his father had come with a cry, the boy—Merlin—trembling underneath and making soft, whining animal noises.

He’d fled, and for three weeks after, he fucked his fist with the stark memory of that mouth--flushed pink with pleasure and moaning like a whore. He wondered what it would be like to have it wrapped around his cock.

***

It’s by chance that he comes across a hedgewitch selling her wares.

The potion will switch their bodies for one night while everyone is deep in their cups, leaving Arthur safe to slip away unnoticed.

***

Arthur inhales, then wipes a palm down his breeches. It would not do to lose heart now when what he wants is this close. He shuts his eyes, squeezing tight, and thinks desperately of the image of his father, stern and proud, always disapproving, always expecting more. His stomach tingles as the magic takes effect. He can _feel_ it. A quick check in the mirror and he’s off, imitating his father’s stride as he walks towards the bedroom where his father’s bed slave is kept waiting for his master.

“Boy,” he calls out softly, then clears his throat. _Be commanding_ , he reminds himself.

“Sire.” 

Merlin sits up, his lips parting. His legs are spread, wanton, the laces of his breeches half undone. Arthur can see the pink of his nipples through his gauzy white tunic and swallows, his throat dry. Finally, he’ll be able to taste the boy, fuck him into the mattress until he moans like a bitch in heat.

Arthur moves towards the bed with his father’s sure gait. But as he pushes Merlin down, his fingers become frustratingly clumsy, unsure. Merlin shrugs out of his tunic and doesn’t say a word, his lashes lowered. 

Arthur takes his time to look his fill, at the smattering of dark hair on Merlin’s pale chest, under his arms. He leans forward to take an experimental lick at a nipple, then blows on it, causing Merlin to shiver and moan. Then he inhales hard in the hollow of his underarms. The deep, musky smell makes him desperate for the rut.

The breeches come off easily after that, and he slips his fingers into Merlin’s arse, finding it already slippery with oil and his father’s seed from an earlier coupling. There’s a fleeting sense of wrongness but he shrugs it off as he sinks himself inside that tight warmth. He is young, green, and can barely reign it in, his hips snapping fast, almost violent, Merlin’s body bouncing like a rag doll while he whines and asks for _more_.

In the haze of fucking, Merlin calls his father’s name, propriety forgotten. 

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur responds, feels the deep heat in his belly, his mind whiting out from intense pleasure as he comes deep inside in quick spurts. Merlin pulls on his cock desperately, coming after, still moaning, breathless.

In the afterglow, Arthur turns, inadvertently catching sight of himself—no, Uther—in the mirror and stiffens all over. The distant guilt comes back; he can almost hear his father’s lecture. He stands and prepares to leave, but Merlin catches his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

“You’re Prince Arthur, aren’t you,” he says.

Shocked, Arthur turns around. “How did you know?” A tendril of fear is beginning to make its way down his spine.

“You called me by name,” Merlin muses. “Your father never does. Calls me _boy_ like the fuck toy I am.”

Arthur has never heard his father’s bed slave talk that much, belatedly realizes that behind those sultry eyes is a shrewd mind. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice harsh.

***

He doesn’t expect to find himself in that gauzy white shirt, arse dripping come, terrified. 


	3. Group C (warnings)

56.

Kink: body modification (magical tattoos)  
Pairing: Gwen/Merlin  
Warnings: past character death/grief

When Merlin comes back, just as she begins to fear he won't come at all, he is strange and silent, appearing in her quarters one evening not by magic but by knowing a servant's way around the palace and the guards. She reaches out for him immediately, but he shakes his head, clutching a bag in his hands. "I couldn't come back until I knew I could keep you safe. I wasn't strong enough for him, but I will be for you."

Gwen fists her hands at her sides to keep from reaching out as she wants to do. Even a kiss would be a balm. "I thought I'd lost you both."

Merlin shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I tried to save him. But all I can do is help you, if you'll let me."

She would do anything, if it would help him and make him stay. "What do I need to do? Is it magic?" The word tastes strange in her mouth, but this is Merlin. He won't hurt her.

"Yes. It may hurt, but you'll be safe, after. Please, Gwen."

She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Tell me what to do."

Minutes later, Gwen stands bare before the fireplace as Merlin lays out pots of ink. Now that he's distracted, she feels more comfortable cataloguing the way the months have changed him, the scars, the bones standing out against fragile skin. She wonders if the story of her grief is as obvious. If it is, he doesn’t mention it. Sometimes, though, he darts a glance at her, like a starving man shown a feast.

It makes her ache for him, but he will not kiss her until he's done his work, painting her skin with brush and ink. He begins with black, making outlines across her skin, then covers her in color from neck to feet, swirls and spirals that she can't find the pattern of. When that’s done, he stands before her, cupping her face in his hands, eyes bright. “You’ll be safe,” he promises, and starts whispering words that slip from her grasp as easily as the patterns on her skin do.

The ink burns as he speaks, and she bites her lip against the pain as it sinks its way into her skin with the force of his magic. Knowing he has this much power is astounding, but knowing he wants to use it to keep her safe is breathtaking. He's in her, now, in her skin and bones as much as he's in her heart.

“Please,” she gasps when the pain lessens, when he stops speaking, and Merlin covers her mouth with his, kisses like he’s drowning, like the force of their love will make up for lost time, for Arthur's death. “Please come to bed."

Merlin holds her hand and follows like he’s forgotten the way to the bed and it’s an impossibly long way away. Gwen doesn’t want to let go either, and she pulls him into bed when they get there. He lands on top of her in an ungainly tangle of limbs, but she doesn’t let him go, just tugs at his shirt until he strips himself with magic, eyes gold and blazing, and she laughs, sharp and startled.

“Inside me,” she demands, only more desperate with his naked body against hers, and he thrusts inside. She arches against him, head falling back.

It’s inelegant and messy in a way it never was between them, even in the beginning when they fell into bed laughing and teasing—but there were three of them then. Now, Gwen won't let her hands leave Merlin’s skin, desperate for the feel of him when she’s been so alone. Her body welcomes him, remembers the shape of him. He’s wild above her, his hands everywhere at once, setting her skin tingling where his magic rests. Gwen begs for more, more contact, more of him, and Merlin gives it, his head dropped to rest against the curve of her neck. When she comes, she takes him with her, and it’s like something sliding into place.

After, she wraps her arms around him and lets him run his fingers across her tingling skin. “You’ll be safe,” he promises.

Gwen looks down at the designs marking her skin and thinks of what they mean, his penance and his love. “Of course I will be. You’re here now.”

 

57.

Kink(s): Power play, public sex  
Pairing(s): Merlin/ Arthur  
Warning(s): none

The first time Arthur busted Merlin for solicitation and Merlin had heard his name, a slow smile had spread across his face. Eyes that spoke with the promise of sin bored deeply into Arthur's own and warm tingle spread across Arthur’s body as the air crackled with the sexual attraction between them.

“Well P.C. Pendragon,” Merlin had said with amusement, “You and I must be destiny because around here folks call me Merlin.” A lascivious leer turned up his lips. “So how about you and I get together later and make some magic of our own?”

***

After that first meeting a pattern formed, where every few weeks Merlin would turn up on Arthurs patrol to goad, proposition and tempt him in turn; always dressed in the tightest of clothes, the best form of advertisement for a trollop like Merlin, and usually with an unfortunate pun that involved wands or night sticks.

Name calling wasn’t uncommon on both sides during these meetings and yet each time Arthur turned to walk away was more difficult than the last.

***

Everything changed when the druids came out in force and a bloody gang war broke out over the drug trade in London. The MET needed informers close to the action, and where there were hookers there was crack, smack and dealers looking to hook their next victim.

The only person in that scene Arthur would trust was Merlin.

***

Sergeant Percy from Vice was the one to bring Merlin in, but Arthur was there for the questioning and request for aid. He was also the one to escort Merlin to the bathroom after he’d told the Sergeant where he could stick his offer. 

***

As soon as the door closed behind them Arthur had Merlin pinned against the wall, one leg thrust between Merlin's, a forearm on either side of his head, trapping him against Arthur’s body.

“You’re going to do this for me Merlin,” Arthur grunted into Merlin's ear, his lips caressing Merlin's lobe before working their way to his cheek.

“Fuck you Pratdragon,” Merlin swore as he turned his head to avoid the onslaught of Arthur’s lips. “I’m not going to risk my life so you and Sergeant No- Sleeves out there can sleep better at night thinking you’re doing something to stop the druids.” He sighed, body slumping against the wall, curling in on himself as if to make his body the smallest possible target. “Do I really mean so little to you? Jesus Christ, I’m probably just the whore you tell your friends you dream of fucking but –“

Arthur cut off his bitter tirade, crushing Merlin's rosebud lips against his own in a cruel kiss, waging their tongues in a violent battle for domination that had little to do with desire. Since the very first day they met, Merlin had sought control with the use of his body and the heat that flowed between them. Now it was Arthur's turn to do the same.

“If all I wanted was to fuck you, you’d be bent over this sink right now, taking everything I could give you and begging me for more. Jesus Christ, Don’t you get it? I could make you do anything I wanted,” Arthur said, slowly trailing one hand from the curve of Merlin's neck down the contour of his body to rest against the bulge in his trousers.

“Fuck Merlin, I could have you arrested and no one would care. I could hold you down and take you right now and nothing would happen to me, and do you know why? Because I’m the one with the badge and you’re the tart who works the streets at night.” 

He unzipped Merlin's fly and ground his palm into Merlin's erection, before dropping to his knees and swallowing around it. He worked his tongue deftly around the head, gripping Merlin's hips tight enough to leave marks. Each little cry drawn from Merlin's mouth egging him on further until Merlin collapsed around him.

“Fuck Arthur,” Merlin said once he’d recovered enough to speak. “You don’t get make my decisions for me. I’m not scared of you or your damn badge—“

Arthur cut Merlin off with a hand over his mouth and lent forward look directly into Merlins eyes. “You’re going to do this Merlin. You’re going to go out there and tell Sergeant Percy you’ll help him; not only because it’s the right thing to do but because afterwards I’m going to take you home with me and I’m going to fuck you on every surface of my apartment. And then when we’re finished we’ll start all over again because you’ll never want to see the back of me.”

“I always want to see the back of you Arthur,” Merlin said softly, “And not because you’ve got the finest arse this side of London but because I know the only way this story ends is with one of us in the morgue and the other on a street corner.”

 

58.

Kink: public sex  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

The curse-maker is sitting by the Great Bath of Aquae Sulis, a linen bathing kilt wrapped around his waist, his chest bare and pale. Clouds of steam hang over the green waters, smelling of the earth and the fires deep within it. Stepping into this room feels like entering another world, with the curse-maker a creature of it: he is bright and dark, serious and silly, honest and evasive, and beyond Arthur’s grasp.

“Hello, Emrys,” Arthur says. “Care to take the waters?”

Emrys’ smile curves slowly, giving Arthur’s heart time to pound. Emrys is supposed to say yes. He’s supposed to join Arthur in the waters, where they will talk easily, Emrys telling ridiculous tales of his childhood home in some far-flung corner of Britannia. There is a pattern to their meetings, and for all he might wish it, Arthur has never quite known how to shape it into something new.

"Of course," Emrys finally says. "Are you ready?"

"I'm not the one lounging about," Arthur snaps. Emrys does this to him, brings out testiness as well as curiosity, anger as well as hope. "If we might begin before the baths close for the evening....?"

Arthur takes the steps down into the water, enjoying the slow spread of warmth up to his chest. Emrys plunges in like a dog into a river, dousing himself all at once, re-emerging with his hair plastered to his head.

"You're absurd," Arthur informs him. "You're going to convince all your potential customers that you're an idiot. Although perhaps they deserve to know."

Emrys shrugs and begins to float, legs bumping gently against Arthur's side.

Most curse-makers are charlatans out to make money off the desperate. Some can hammer the lead tablets into thin, delicate sheets, while others’ handwriting can turn the most petty words into works of art, supposedly to please the goddess. Arthur has heard the whispers about Emrys. His father is governor of this province; hearing whispers is Arthur’s job. Emrys has little skill with hammer or stylus, but people go to him nonetheless. People go to him because his words _work._

He doesn’t help those out for revenge, the whispers say. Don't go to Emrys unless your need is true, unless you are looking for something - property, health, love - that you have lost.

Emrys is drifting aimlessly, eyes closed, no heed to his surroundings. The baths are less crowded now than during the day, but he still risks bumping into someone's backside. Arthur reels him in, gripping Emrys’ waist.

He's oddly quiet tonight. Arthur doesn’t know how to ask after his troubles, or if Emrys would thank him if he did. Perhaps he has already tried to give them up to the goddess. Arthur wonders, not for the first time, if Emrys' words work on himself.

Emrys’ eyes open. "Do you think you can lose the future?"

Arthur stares. "What?"

“It’s waiting for you. For me. More distant than you can dream. And the shape of it....” Emrys slips from Arthur’s grasp, stands and cups water in his hand. “I see it, but never myself holding onto it.” He watches Arthur unblinkingly while the water trickles through his fingers.

"All I see is the new sun each morning,” Arthur says. “All I can hope to hold is what's before me that day." 

“And do you?” Emrys’ voice is hoarse, his eyes unfathomable. “Do you hope?”

Arthur grabs Emrys’ waist again by way of answer, this time with both hands.

He’s half-prepared for what happens next. He expects the kiss but not the fierceness, for Emrys to cup his face and kiss as if he’s drinking Arthur in, as if Arthur is the true spring quenching Emrys’ soul. For himself, Arthur expects the kiss to affect his heart, his body; he doesn’t expect it to taste of infinity.

They’re shrouded in mist curling from the water and the shadows of approaching night. Still, Arthur knows they’re merely obscured, not unseen, so as they part to breathe, he reaches for Emrys beneath the surface, where it can be for them alone.

Stroking a hand over Emrys' stomach gets him a helpless, ticklish laugh, but spanning his lower back with splayed hands earns Arthur parted lips and hooded eyes. When Emrys twines a leg around Arthur's, they're drawn together hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and Arthur gasps when a slight shift adds the pressure of Emrys' cock.

He will hold Emrys in every way he can, here and now, when it counts. He will slide a hand up Emrys’ thigh and wrap it around his cock, he will pull and stroke until Emrys’ breath is wild and he clutches at Arthur for support, holding tight. 

They will be bound together, and time will not let them be lost.

 

59.

Kink(s): double penetration, voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): none

The man wearing a mask with gold patterns around the eyes takes Arthur’s hand. They weave through the dance floor, full of grinding patrons. From raised platforms and suspended cages, naked men and women dance. All wear a mask.

It’s a rule of Dragon’s Lair. A masquerade-style mask must be worn.

Arthur’s is red, patterned with yellow dragons.

They descend to the dungeon floor and go into The Dildo Room.

Inside are three others. A woman sits naked except for her mask, patterned with gems to look like a crown, and a pair of heels. Another wears a flower-print corset and a similarly-designed mask. At her feet sits a man with a plain black mask and a collar around his neck. 

Crown-Mask eyes Arthur up and down, but when Arthur looks at her he never gets further than her tits.

“That’s him?” Flower-Mask says. “I see he means.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Arthur asks.

“He’s been eye-fucking you for weeks,” Black-Mask nods over to Golden-Eyes. “Good on you for finally talking to him.”

“He told you?” Golden-Eyes sighs with exasperation.

“Who?” Arthur asks before it clicks. “That guy with the hair you were with at the bar?”

“He’s got a big mouth,” Crown-Mask laughs. “If he comes here, we’ll shut him up.”

Golden-Eyes leads Arthur to a particular booth. The Dildo Room has various leather-covered seats from which protrude dildos of various sizes and textures. Most vibrate through the push of a button.

The newest is The Chained Beast, sat in the middle of a huge circular cushion. It’s larger than the others, decorated with bumps and scales. The tip forms a dragon’s grinning jaws.

Arthur fingers the red scarf which Golden-Eyes wears. He had thought it a stupid garment, but now he says; “tie this around my mouth.”

Golden-Eyes raises his eyebrows. “You’re embarrassed they’ll hear you?”

“No,” Arthur smirks. “I want to see how horny for me you can get.”

“You wouldn’t believe.”

Clothes strip to the floor and lube is fetched from a dispensing machine in the wall. A pair of cuffs are produced from Golden-Eye’s jacket pocket, which hold Arthur’s wrists together behind his back. Then he gags Arthur with his scarf. Golden-Eyes smears the lube around Arthur’s anus and it takes much of Arthur’s self-control not to fuck himself against that touch.

The rest of the lube is spread over The Chained Beast and Arthur kneels over it.

“Nod your head twice if you want me to stop,” Golden-Eyes tells him. 

Arthur nods once.

Lowers himself onto the dildo, rolls his hips, pushes it inside him. 

Golden-Eyes presses the button to make The Chained Beast vibrate. Arthur arches his back, furiously bucks against the huge object. He feels the vibrations pulse through him. He moans loudly, desperately, not able to impale himself fast enough onto the huge plastic dragon cock.

Arthur sees Golden-Eyes stroking himself. Something about that sends a surge of possession. 

He nods twice.

Golden-Eyes grits his teeth as he stops masturbating and presses the button to stop the vibrations. He kneels next to Arthur and pulls the scarf from his mouth.

“You okay?”

Arthur pants an urgent; “ _fuck me!_ Fuck me with this still inside me!”

He grinds his hips in small circles, moans softly while bumps and scales rub against him.

Golden-Eyes moves behind Arthur. Pre-cum slicks his cock. Then Arthur feels it push up inside him. It starts slow but builds a pace as Golden-Eyes thrusts into Arthur, who jerks his hips back to fill himself with both cocks. It’s slow and hurts but feels _so fucking good_.

Golden-Eyes kisses frantically at Arthur’s neck. Both of them thrust and grind against each other. Arthur twists enough to catch the man’s lips. Their tongues tangle and fuck each other’s mouths.

Golden-Eyes pushes the button again.

The vibrations pound through Arthur. He comes hard, screaming.

Arthur must have blacked out because next thing he knows the vibrations have stopped. Golden-Eyes is undoing the cuffs and helping him to his feet.

“You alright?”

Arthur nods, steadies himself but finds no need to pull away. 

Golden-Eyes smiles and he nods towards the door. “Hot tub area?”

They gather their clothes but don’t dress. Just carry their respective bundles.

Golden-Eyes’ friend from the bar did indeed enter the room. He’s sprawled on the floor with Crown-Mask sat on his face, grinding her wet cunt into his mouth. Black-Mask’s tongue is between the legs of Flower-Mask, who smiles as Golden-Eyes and Arthur pass by.

 

60.

Kink(s): powerplay, non-genital erogenous zone (armpit)  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Percival  
Warning(s): D/s, brief erotic asphyxiation, bondage

The first time Arthur let Percival tie him to the bed, he hadn't known what to expect. Especially considering how very briefly they’d been trying the whole Dom-sub thing, and how much it had taken them to get even that far. That night, Arthur had been face-up, tied only by his hands on either corner of the bed. Percival had kept the lights on and smiled at Arthur reassuringly before stroking, kissing, licking, nibbling and worshiping nearly every inch of Arthur’s body before fucking him slowly.

Arthur can remember the orgasm so clearly, in spite of the way he’d floated through it, clinging to Percival with only kisses, his arms loose and limp in the restraints, his legs split wide open on either side of Percival. He watches Percival kiss his wrists before they’re both fastened into the cuffs. Arthur tenses only for a moment before Percival is hovering above him, kissing him gently until Arthur feels himself getting lost in Percival’s lips and tongue, the warmth of his body, and not inside his own head. 

When Percival pulls away, Arthur whines and lifts his head after him, earning him a chuckle and an eyeroll, but also another quick kiss. Arthur’s a little bit ashamed of his neediness, but also in awe of Percival, and of how well he can read Arthur, how he takes care of him, even if Arthur thinks it should be the other way. 

Percival comes back into Arthur’s line of sight with the blindfold, leaning over him again. 

"Lift your head."

Arthur does, and Percival puts the blindfold on, enveloping Arthur’s world in darkness. He can feel his breath catch for a second as Percival moves off him again, far too quietly, and Arthur strains to hear him, moving his head back and forth. 

"Shhh, still here." Percival’s voice comes from the other side of the bed, then Arthur feels lips on his fingers, then his knuckles. 

He shudders at every kiss along his arm, and fluctuates between turned on and embarrassed and guilty – because he loves this so much, because he knows Percival is aware of just how much he loves it, and because he should be the one taking care of Percival. The nip on his shoulder takes him by surprise. Arthur turns his head toward him, wanting to get closer. 

Arthur expects Percival to gag him or slap his face away, and the anticipation is killing him, making him curl his toes around the bedspread to not kick up or thrash. What he doesn't expect (though he should, because Percival is very observant) is for Percival to nose into his armpit. 

"Fuck," is out of Arthur’s mouth before he can stop himself, his whole body trembling. He’s stuck between wanting to move closer and move away, embarrassment and arousal waging a war inside him. He stays still instead, waiting for Percival, like he’s supposed to. 

"Good," Percival says, his breath warm against Arthur’s shaved armpit, on the verge of ticklish, but not quite. Arthur is glad for the blindfold then, not having to watch Percival put himself there, where Arthur is probably sweaty and disgusting. 

Arthur’s clenching his muscles in anticipation, feeling Percival’s even breaths, waiting. It takes him a long time, far too long, he knows, to realize that if he doesn't relax, Percival won’t do anything. So he lets the tension drain away from his body again, shuddering when Percival wastes no time and buries his face in Arthur’s armpit completely. 

Arthur moans out, digs his fingers into his palms, but stays still otherwise, would have even without Percival’s hands holding him at his throat and hip. Percival continues only nosing, breathing heavy into the hollow of the armpit and Arthur can feel himself growing harder and harder, arousal a clear winner of the war. He thinks the blindfold adds to it, too, makes him work himself up more and more, imagining things that are happening right next to his face. 

His breathing is laboured, coming in shorter and shorter when Percival finally begins licking and kissing at Arthur’s pit. Arthur moans out, practically a sob and it takes very very little before he’s pushing his neck up into Percival’s hand, silently begging for more. 

Percival squeezes his neck on an exhale and licks him harder than before, entire face moving inside Arthur’s armpit. That’s it; gasping, breathless, Arthur comes untouched. His toes dig into the bedspread, heart beats fast, but when Percival kisses him, he feels better than he had all day.

 

61.

_Kink(s): Tentacles, little bit of voyeurism and non-genital erogenous zones_  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Morgana  
Warning(s): Bondage. (Tentacle play is 100% consensual!) 

Morgana twisted the yarn around her fingers. On the bed, Merlin writhed.

“Still reckon you can take everything I’ve got?” A smirk played over her lips.

“Always,” he said. She tugged on the yarn again; the bed creaked as its wooden tendrils spread his legs further apart, looping around his thighs, clinging on tight. 

She wondered how it felt against his skin. The tendrils crawling out of the bed-frame still looked like polished wood, but she knew they were warm to the touch – she’d made them that way. She tugged again and he hissed as a tentacle teased the underside of his knee.

“You’re a really fast learner.” His voice hitched slightly.

“Don’t ever doubt it.” _A control exercise_ , that was how they were justifying this. Seeing how delicately she could use her magic. Morgana suspected it was testing Merlin;s control as well. He liked being tied up, but it frightened him. Sometimes his magic would free him without him meaning it to. He was pushing back already, muscles flexing against the wooden tendrils.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to run her hands down his chest, dig her nails into his skin, tease all the places she knew he liked to be teased – but that was against the rules. 

He wasn’t hard yet. She looped a strand of yarn around her fingers and a tendril looped around his balls, squeezing gently.

“Careful!”

“I thought you said you trusted me?”

“There’s trust and trust,” he said, “I’m very attached to my – _ahh_!” She wound a tentacle around his cock.

Of course, like so many of their ‘magic exercises’, the lesson part had gone out of the window when Merlin took his trousers off. The skin of his thighs was going pink where the tentacles were squeezing tight. He’d probably squirm if she skimmed her fingernails across his skin there.

He was quiet while she stroked him to hardness. He breathed through gritted teeth, fingers clenching and unclenching as the tentacle coiled around his cock

They had made the rules the first time one of their magic lessons had turned into – whatever this was. Morgana would not take off too many clothes – she was in a shift now, fabric falling in crisp folds around her needs – and they would not touch. It wouldn’t be appropriate – that was the word they’d used, _appropriate_.

The skin between Merlin’s legs was soft and pale, hairs standing out starkly. His hips were thrusting up into the grasp of the wooden tentacle, trying to get himself off. Morgana tugged on the threads, tightening her grip, and he let out a frustrated sound.

“Have you had enough?” she said, “or shall I keep going?”

“I can take it.”

She pulled his legs open even wider, and he gasped, body all stretched out, taut as a bowstring. The things he did to her – she could feel how wet she was every time she moved, her cunt all slippery, her toes curling against the bed sheets.

Merlin didn’t know the real reason for the no touching rule. Morgana was afraid that if she started she wouldn’t be able to stop, that she’d want to touch him everywhere, feel his hands all over her; she’d let him touch her breasts the way she knew he wanted to, let him bury his face in her cunt the way he wanted to; straddle him and take his cock inside herself, ride him until he yelled. If she touched him.

A flick of her fingers and a twist of the thread and the tentacles writhed against his skin. He bit back a moan.

A tentacle slid behind his balls. He gasped and tensed, muscles flexing, trying to move, but he was held fast. “Do you want me to?” she asked.

“Yeah. Do it.”

A few words to make the tentacle slick and a push and it went in easy. Merlin cried out, head trailing back against the pillows, and Morgana loosened her grip, let him writhe and buck as she made it move inside him.

She could see where his body was clenching as the tendril slipped in and out of him. She dropped the bundle of threads and shoved a hand between her legs, stroking herself through her shift, fabric clinging filthily where she was wet. When he cried out again she came, body thrumming with heat. The wooden tentacles loosened and dissolved, freeing him with a jolt, and she sat and listened to him gasping.

 

62.

Kink(s): public sex (performance), tattooing  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

Maybe it wasn’t every boy’s dream to star in gay porn when he grew up, but Arthur couldn’t complain about his chosen line of work. At first it had only been about having some money of his own for a change and helping fund his way through the school of economics, but after graduating Arthur had decided that he preferred the porn industry to the world of business after all. At least here his co-workers asked permission before screwing him.

Not that he actually bottomed often. Bulky guys like him tended to do all the fucking just because the audience expected it. On his free time Arthur liked it better the other way round, which conveniently helped him keep fucking for work and fucking for pleasure apart.

“We’re ready,” Morgana called. “We’re just waiting for you.”

The first time Arthur had to work with Morgana had been mortifying, but logically thinking, it was Arthur’s job to be naked in front of other people, so why should his sister being present make it any more embarrassing? Morgana was also brilliant at her work. The only downside was the snarky commentary he had to listen to every time he worked with someone who he found attractive on a deeper level than just the professional one.

“This time could you please try to downgrade your eyesex with Merlin? I know audience enjoys it, but it’s awkward for the other people in the room.”

“Fuck off, Morgana.”

“I don’t think I will. That’s _your_ job.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

There was a plot to the film like there always was, but as no one was going to watch it for the plot anyway, Arthur had forgotten it around the same time Merlin’s lips first came in contact with his cock. In Arthur’s opinion this was a much better use of Merlin’s mouth than his constant blabbering. The truth was that sometimes when Merlin did _that thing_ with his tongue, Arthur tended to forget he was supposed to be _working_ and just enjoyed the sensation of a pretty guy sucking his cock.

Dozing was not an option though, because they had to move to the main act. It wouldn’t be proper gay porn unless someone’s cock came in contact with someone’s arse. Merlin had naturally been prepared already, so when he pushed Arthur on the bed, put the condom on him, and climbed on his lap he could’ve just sat on Arthur’s cock, but audience always enjoyed the preparation and what Morgana called their “eyesex moments”.

Merlin preferred to do the preparing with his own fingers which left Arthur’s hands free to touch his body while he stared at Merlin. They had to mind the camera angles, because Morgana always insistent that the brilliant work of art, the dragon tattoo that started from the shoulder and covered most of Merlin’s right arm, should be visible at all times. Arthur both hated and adored that tattoo. Adored the colours and texture and how it was suited both Merlin’s body and personality, but hated that he was never allowed to touch it because it had to remain _visible_. Merlin smirked at Arthur like he knew exactly what Arthur was thinking. In return Arthur just pulled Merlin into an almost violent kiss and pushed his hips against Merlin’s backside.

It naturally moved from there. Arthur pushed inside and got a whimper that was _almost_ for sure authentic. It felt natural to move like this with Merlin, hitting the prostate and having another kiss in return. Merlin came all over his stomach and chest with a dramatic shout, and instead of sweeping some of the come with his fingers and tasting it like he wanted, Arthur concentrated on finishing the job. He gripped Merlin’s hips tight and pushed in sharply a couple of times until he came too. 

They stared each other for a while when they were both coming down from their high, and then Arthur heard Morgana shout at the film crew that it was a wrap and they could use the scene. Merlin blinked and climbed off of Arthur. Arthur hardly noticed the girl who gave him a dressing gown to wear.

“So uh,” Arthur started. “Good shot today.”

“Yeah,” Merlin answered. “Hope we can do another one sometime.”

Merlin gave him a wink and left the room, leaving Arthur wondering why the hell he found Merlin so intriguing and imagine how one day yet he would solve the riddle of him.

 

63.

Kink(s): tattoos, minor non-genital erogenous zone  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

The thing about Arthur Pendragon was that he really wasn't Merlin's usual type. Their first blind-date hadn't been anything special which was why Merlin was surprised when Arthur texted him an invitation to come watch him play footie.

Merlin had been pleased to see that it was shirts vs skins _because yes please manflesh_. Merlin was enjoying the match plenty when he caught sight of a mark on Arthur's left shoulder poking out from under his shirtsleeve. Merlin stared at it for a few moments before realizing holy shit, that's a tattoo. It was nothing to get excited over, but somehow the thought of docile bank manager Arthur Pendragon having a tattoo went straight to his cock. 

It became increasingly difficult to watch the game after that. He nearly had a heart attack when Arthur bent over and his shirt rode up just enough to see _Jesus Christ, it's a full back tattoo_ , and any doubt that he wasn't going to jump Arthur after the game left his mind.

For his part, Arthur seemed quite enthusiastic about being slammed up against the wall of Merlin's flat and being guided backwards towards the bedroom. He shucked his trousers and started working on Merlin's when Merlin shook his head.

"Nuh-uh, shirt first and turn around."

Arthur obliged, if a little confused, and crouched on his hands and knees on the bed, giving Merlin his first real look at the tattoo. And _fucking Christ_ if Merlin hadn't been hard before he sure as hell was now.

It was a dragon; all reds and golds that splashed across his entire back like a watercolour painting. The dragon's head was positioned between his shoulder blades and its tail and claws dipped down below the line of his pants. Arthur chose that moment to stretch and Merlin's mouth watered as he watched Arthur's muscles shift, making the dragon ripple.

"Any day now Merlin."

Transfixed, Merlin lowered his mouth to Arthur's back and pressed an open mouth kiss to one of the wings.

"Merlin what t- oh," Arthur stopped as Merlin began tracing the outline of the tattoo with his tongue. He followed the lines all the way across, swooping down where it dipped along Arthur's side, nipping and kissing gently. He reached the elastic of the pants and tugged them down, swirling his tongue in one of Arthur's muscled dimples, tasting the sweat. Arthur moaned and collapsed onto the bed.

Merlin continued his progression downwards, following the tail until it stopped just above Arthur's crack. Feeling bold, he slid his tongue between the cheeks, circling his hole. Arthur mumbled incoherently and began rutting against the bed. Merlin grabbed his hips, slowing his pace. He reached forward, pressing two of his fingers against Arthur's lips and was rewarded with Arthur taking them greedily into his mouth. Merlin chuckled and pulled them out, enjoying the way Arthur whimpered and turned his head to follow their progress.

Merlin waited until Arthur had found his rhythm again before pushing one of his fingers gently inside, licking around it and easing its passage. Arthur let out a string of expletives that Merlin took as a complement as he started to thrust with his finger properly, syncing up with Arthur's increasing pace.

Unable to ignore the pressure in his jeans anymore, Merlin undid his fly and pulled his cock out. He stroked himself a couple times before returning his attention to Arthur, swirling his tongue around his hole before adding a second finger. Arthur swore and jerked backwards, forcing Merlin's fingers deeper.

Merlin continued to thrust and stretch until he judged Arthur was close to coming and removed his fingers. Arthur let out a whine that turned into a yelp as Merlin slammed his tongue into Arthur. Unable to delay any longer, Merlin began stroking himself furiously and felt his orgasm building embarrassingly fast. Luckily Arthur was too far gone to care, fucking himself shamelessly on Merlin's tongue and the bed.

Arthur came first with a full body shudder as he humped desperately into the sheets. Merlin licked him through it before getting up on his knees and coming across Arthur's back. His come coated the dragon, adding texture to the existing watercolour background and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing Merlin had ever seen. Maybe he could take a picture somehow and frame it above his bed for future wank material. His reverie was interrupted by Arthur clearing his throat.

"Um, any chance I could have a towel?"

 

64.

Kink(s): Public sex  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): Underage, incest

It’s just Tuesday. Same morning routine, same conversation in the cafeteria with Will, same asshole ruining your day.

Valiant and his shithead friends have started mocking your clothes and extra-curricular activities. Over his shoulder you see Arthur surrounded by the usual ass-kissers. His angry expression and clenched fist makes you think he’s about to confront Valiant to 'protect' you. The humiliation of being thought of as Arthur’s loser little brother is too much so you yell, “Oh, fuck off,” at Valiant shocking everyone around you, including Arthur, by the looks of it.

The bell rings and you escape to class, ignoring Will’s shouts and Arthur’s eyes.

*

After chem club, you wait by Arthur’s locker for him to finish tutoring and drive you home.

“What was Valiant saying to you?”

Suddenly Arthur's standing next to you, staring at you.

“His usual shit. Don’t worry about it.”

“You told him off? Just like that?” He smiles and you realize he’s proud of you. Your stomach clenches in that not-entirely-unpleasant way it does whenever Arthur’s around.

He moves closer, his chest brushing against yours, hands on the wall behind you. You’re surprised to find you’re the same height – Arthur has always been larger than life to you. He lifts his hands to touch your face, angle your mouth for a kiss. It’s soft at first, testing and unsure. Soon there’s a pattern – a gentle suck, followed by a pull on the hair at your neck and a needy bite to the plump of your lip.

After a few blissful moments, Arthur pulls back - right hand still tangled in your hair, left resting on your hip. You can’t take the idea of him regretting this, so you run your hands up his chest to rest upon his shoulders, try to distract him from his thoughts with your inexperienced lips.

He doesn’t respond at first, just stands there breathing heavy, eyes shut tight. You try again. And again. “I want this,” you whisper. Finally he breaks, presses you into the wall until you can barely breathe.

All you can think about is the wetness of Arthur’s mouth and the hard muscle of his body. You know what his body looks like – catching glimpses after he showers, towel low on his hips, summer tan still intact. You never thought you would feel him in this way, especially not in school where anyone could walk by. The thought of getting caught with Arthur excites you, that someone else could see this moment unfold and know that you are more to each other than just brothers.

You feel his dick hardening against your thigh and it makes your face flush. He puts one leg between yours, pushing up lightly, then harder, deliberate. The strength of his body is evident in every thrust, every time his hand grips your side like a vise. Like this it’s obvious Arthur is a man, not a boy like you.

“Christ, Merlin,” he says, groaning into the crook of your neck when you start to fuck against his thigh.

You both rush to touch undiscovered skin. Arthur’s hands catch the hem of your t-shirt and raise it to your ribcage, goosebumps rising along with it. You don't want to wait another second, risk discovery and the end of this. Whatever _this_ is. You focus on his jeans and the abnormally difficult task of unzipping them. You’re shaking with nerves and hope Arthur doesn’t notice, that he won’t laugh at you for being such a virgin about it. Finally you reach in and _jesus_ that’s Arthur’s dick. Even through his boxers you can feel the heat of it and you let out a pathetic whine.

“Yeah. That’s good,” he says, gulping down some air. You nod in agreement; can’t actually form a response yet, can’t take your eyes off the sight of your hand down Arthur’s pants. “You can, uh, rub a little harder. Feels good, promise.”

You grasp his dick tighter and Arthur increases the pressure on your own. Your orgasm is approaching quickly, but you’re too undisciplined to stop it. The crotch of your jeans gets saturated with come, but Arthur keeps rubbing against you, panting into your mouth. You feel like you’re not contributing, so you squeeze again and tell Arthur how beautiful he is.

He lets out a strangled, “Oh, god,” before he’s coming too.

*

Once you can breathe again, there’s sheepish looks and grabbing your backpacks, leaving the hallway before someoe investigates the strange noises you’ve been making for the last ten minutes.

 

65.

Kink(s): bodyswap, large objects  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): aside from the kinks, none

Blue

Merlin rutted against Arthur, kissing him frantically, but when he pulled back, he was a bit startled to look into his own face. He groaned; it was so wrong yet so hot. He felt Arthur’s…no, his own hand wrapped around both their pricks, pumping steadily and his eyes followed the movement up the arm where he saw strong muscles working underneath pale skin. Gosh, this was almost like fucking himself.

“Arthur?” he whispered in a voice that wasn’t his own.

“Yeah?” So this was what his voice sounded like to others.

“I need to…”

“Fuck me.” Arthur let go and rolled onto his back and already pulled his knees against his chest. “I…you do the magic.”

Merlin concentrated and whispered the spell that prepared Arthur’s…no, his own body and then slowly pushed in. It was wrong. So so so wrong. How perverted did you have to be to enjoy fucking yourself? But from all the kinky things they’d ever done, this was the one they got off on most. 

So he slowly fucked into his own arse and looked down into his own eyes, searching for a hint of Arthur in them, but they looked perfectly like his. 

Arthur threw his head back and keened. “Come on, faster. I wanna…”

Merlin enjoyed the tight feeling of his arse and slammed into it faster until Arthur cried out and came. Before he had the chance for release, Arthur had pushed him off. “Wha…?”

“Here!” Merlin watched his own hands reaching for the giant blue dildo they’d bought a while ago as a joke. 

“You can’t be serious!”

Arthur looked at him with curious wide blue eyes underneath an unruly black fringe. “I always wondered if I could take it. You have the right spells to prepare yourself…me, my body. It will be so hot watching you…me…taking it all the way in.”

“You’re a sick fuck.” Merlin swallowed as he looked at the thing that was almost as wide as his forearm. 

Grinning the grin that made his eyes crinkle up, Arthur nodded. “So are you. Or why else did you just fuck your own arse?”

Merlin closed his eyes and ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair that felt so different between his fingers. When he opened his eyes and murmured a spell in the old language, his eyes flashed golden. He fell forwards and presented his plump arse. “Alright…do it. But go slow.”

But he didn’t feel the soft silicone of the dildo right away. First, there were fingers exploring and then a tongue, his own tongue. He had done this to Arthur a thousand times, but now he was about to learn how it felt for him. He moaned when the tip of his tongue probed his arse. 

Arthur was playing with his arse for a while before Merlin finally heard the lube bottle being opened and finally, the toy touched him. “Shove it in! I won’t last much longer!” He gritted his teeth and took a couple of deep breaths when he felt the huge dildo intruding even further. Even though he had prepared the body with the best spells he knew, this thing was wider than anything this body had ever taken. 

“So hot. You have no idea.” Arthur’s whispers ghosted hot breath over his buttocks and Merlin pushed back to take more in. 

“Almost there, gosh Merlin, you are amazing.”

“You…your body…remember?” Merlin gritted out and then sighed when he felt the body relax and take the rest of the dildo in. It wasn’t too uncomfortable and when Arthur started to press against the end of it in little circles, Merlin gasped. “Do…do that again!”

Arthur repeated the motion and Merlin felt his dick fill again. Damn, this was fucking fantastic! He braced himself with one arm and reached for his prick with the other hand. 

“Yeah…get yourself off while I play with this.”

Fuck, Arthur had a filthy mouth and the words sounded even dirtier because Merlin heard them in his own voice. 

“Come on, Merlin, let go.”

When the gigantic dildo in his arse was twisted, Merlin yelled out and came hard. Panting, he slumped onto the bed.

Arthur slowly pulled the dildo out and tossed it aside. He draped himself half over his own body, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.”

“Prat.” Knowing that the body-switching spell would break the moment he fell asleep, Merlin closed his eyes.

 

66.

Kink(s): public sex, tattoos, voyeurism, non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Morgana/Merlin, Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): No Warnings Apply

Merlin is getting a tattoo, on his back, which he has discovered is VERY sensitive…

**Inked**

Merlin smiled as he walked into the tattoo parlour. Gwen waved him through so he continued into the main work area. Morgana was setting up her chair, the incandescent tattoo of a baby dragon that curled around her scapula on proud display. She called him Aithusa. 

“You’re late.” Merlin twisted around to find Arthur lounging on the couch in the corner. His own chair was empty, his area clean, but technically the shop was closed. 

“You aren’t late,” Morgana said. “I’ll be ready soon. Just get yourself sorted.”

Merlin nodded and walked towards the couch. He didn’t bother with the change room, simply stopped in front of Arthur and began unwinding the scarf from around his neck. Arthur’s blue eyes lifted up and Merlin smirked before dropping the scarf onto the blonde’s lap. Merlin unzipped his hoodie and began a pile of clothes next to Arthur. He left his blood red briefs on with a smirk.

“Nice.”

Merlin smiled and walked back over to Morgana and straddled the chair. Merlin was a comic book artist and he had been thinking about this tattoo since he had first drawn Kilgharrah. The golden dragon, or the outline of him, was sitting low on his back, curling around his hip with its head resting on the jutting line of his hipbone. 

“Why are you still wearing your jocks?”

“He is teasing me,” Arthur said. 

Merlin chuckled and tugged the back of his underwear down and under the curve of his backside. 

“Such a pretty arse.” Merlin’s ears heated. “I’m going to be working on the green colouring on underside of the body today.”

Merlin nodded and tensed. 

“Relax,” Arthur said and Merlin looked up to catch his eye. 

Merlin moaned at the first swipe of alcohol over the skin of his back, his nerves caught and his body jerked. The hair on his arms lifted. 

Merlin could hear Gwen pushing the privacy curtains wide. He thought of the giant windows that made up the shop front, that Gwen never locked the door and he bit down on his lip. 

Morgana ran a fingertip along the edge of the dragon and Merlin shivered. His back had always been sensitive but…she pulled away and Merlin arched back to follow her. He closed his eyes and waited. He hadn’t known when he came in for the tattoo that it would be like this. The machine started making a noise and Merlin smiled and took a deep breath before the first press of the needle. He tensed up so he didn’t move but the sensation flared out from the pinprick. 

Morgana’s hand landed heavy on his spine and Merlin sighed at the secondary contact. His skin felt tight, his breath fluttery. She moved the needle expertly as her pinkie started running over his skin, making him want to shiver. 

Everything was too much, the pain was amazing – something he had never known he would like. But with the hypersensitive skin of his back everything felt like it was too much. Merlin felt his cock begin to strain against the fabric of his jocks. This was why he left them on. He knew he could take them off. Morgana wouldn’t mind, and Arthur certainly wouldn’t. 

Morgana was swirling the needle now, filling in the base green colour. His back was on fire, alight with sensation everywhere the needle went. He gripped the chair in front of him tight and lost himself in the sensation; the prick of the needle, the sweep of Morgana’s pinkie splitting his focus, the tight feeling in his limbs and back begging him to move, and the steady thrumming of blood in his cock. 

Suddenly, everything stopped and Merlin let out a needy moan. He felt the swipe of the cloth over his skin and jerked forward. 

“Easy,” Arthur’s voice in his ear, hand cupping the back of Merlin’s neck. “Relax, she’s done.”

“Already?”

“Yes.” 

“Please…”

Arthur did nothing and Merlin could feel the sudden cold spray of liquid on his back. He arched. 

“I’m done.”

At Morgana’s words Arthur’s hand sunk down until he was cupping Merlin. Merlin leaned back, the heat of Arthur’s hand bleeding though Merlin’s briefs. Perfect, just a little…Arthur’s other hand slid down the line of Merlin’s back and he threw his head back and came. 

“Absolute favourite client,” Morgana said from very far away.

“He’s mine,” Arthur growled out close to Merlin’s ear but his fingers were still stroking Merlin’s spine so the satisfied man didn’t bother to comment. 

**The End**

 

67.

Kink(s): bukkake, voyeurism (extra: exhibitionism, small comeplay)  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, Arthur/Knights (of the bukkake nature)  
Warning(s): -

Arthur digs his fingers into Merlin’s trembling thighs as Merlin lowers himself onto his cock. The living room carpet is rough against his back and Arthur knows he’s going to regret it tomorrow, but for now there’s only Merlin’s tightness and heat and the pleased hum that escapes his lips when he bottoms out. 

Arthur lets out a shaky breath as Merlin lifts his hips, hands braced on Arthur’s chest, then lowers himself back down with a groan that reverberates through Arthur. He shivers at the slick glide of his cock inside Merlin, at the sounds that fill the room.

Gwaine and Leon are naked on the sofa, fists moving in slow, long pulls over their cocks, eyes fixed on the space where Arthur’s cock disappears inside Merlin. Arthur slides his hands up to Merlin’s waist, holds him still on the upstroke and snaps his hips up while lowering him back down, swift and hard. He throws his head back with a breathless laugh, loving the way Gwaine bites his lips, and Leon’s low and hoarse _fuck_ , like Arthur’s never heard him before.

He wants to look at Percival and Elyan too, but Merlin pinches Arthur’s nipples and grins at him, a bit wide and crazed, and so goddamn beautiful Arthur drags him down with clumsy, urgent fingers on his sweaty skin until he can push his tongue between Merlin’s lips in a messy kiss. 

He should be shy about this, and it should be weird to do this, but somehow it isn’t, somehow it’s perfect and _exactly_ what he wants. 

He holds Merlin tight against him, thrusting harder into him, loving the way Merlin’s cock’s trapped between their bodies, and the scratchy noise of Merlin’s nails against the carpet. The air is heady and warm and smells like sex even though none of them has come yet.

Merlin gasps, says “Now--fuck--now, _now_ ,” and Arthur immediately lets him go, skin almost pulsating with anticipation. 

He unsteadily moves to kneel in front of Merlin, the muscles in his legs screaming in protest, fingers fluttering between his own thighs, twitching against his stomach as he tries not to reach for Merlin. 

_Fuck_ , he wants this so much.

Merlin stands in front of him, hand on his cock and Arthur can’t resist darting his tongue out to lick at it, closing his eyes in pleasure at the taste.

He hears shuffling as people move around him and heat pools low and burning in Arthur’s stomach, so sudden and raw that he has to squeeze the base of his cock hard to prevent himself from coming.

When he opens his eyes he can’t help the low groan that escapes him from deep inside his chest at the sight: five hard cocks being fisted in sure grips all around him. 

The smell of come and sweat is overwhelming and he forces himself to take deep breaths of it, letting it fill him. He loves the obscene noises filling the air and the glistening precome between moving fingers.

Arthur doesn't even think or hesitate, he just leans in and licks at one cockhead, dips his head and mouths at someone else’s balls, turns so one cock can leave wet stickiness on his chin--hungry and dizzy and all of it so fucking _good_.

The first shot of hot come hits his cheek and it sends a shock through him that forces someone to grab roughly at his hair and hold him up. Pain shoots through his scalp in a way that make his toes curl against the carpet. 

He closes his eyes as they all empty themselves on his face and throat and chest, fingers digging in his shoulders and neck as someone smears come over his cheekbone with the tip of their cock. Arthur can’t find enough air to breathe properly. He shivers and grasps at his own cock harder and harder, almost painfully.

He takes harsh breaths through his nose looks up to see Merlin smiling down at him, face flushed and sweaty. 

Merlin swipes come from Arthur’s forehead with his thumb and says, “Happy birthday, _darling_ ,” while pushing it between Arthur’s lips. He sucks greedily on it and it’s sweet and bitter on his tongue. He has no way of knowing who's come it is. 

The realization hits him like a punch, blinding and hot, and Arthur comes with a sharp cry, slumping forward, boneless. Merlin catches him with shaky arms, his tongue warm and soft across Arthur’s lips and cheeks, cleaning him up.

 

68.

 **Kink(s):** Fisting, hint of future Double Penetration  
 **Pairing(s):** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning(s):** None

It had started out as nothing more than dirty talk – mutual fantasies breathed into the space between their bodies. Words wielded like weapons to entice and excite, in their on-going competition to push the other over the edge first.

_The first time they’d slept together, it hadn’t crossed either of their minds, they’d been too wrapped up in each other. Merlin had clung to Arthur like he was the only man in the world, as Arthur watched Merlin’s hole, entranced each time it seemed to pull him back inside._

_The more it happened, the more vocal they became. The room was soon full of “Oh god, Merlin, you’re so tight” and “Fuck, Arthur, just get inside me already.”_

_As they got to know each other’s bodies, they got to know which buttons to press, and it turned out that a major button for each of them was talking about how much they wanted to fill Merlin’s arse._

_“I just want you to fill me so much, until I physically can’t stretch anymore.” Merlin would utter, as Arthur teased him with just two fingers slowly dragging inside his body._

_“Mm, yeah, I want to see how much I can fit inside you, see you fucked raw around my cock.” Then, naturally, they would be too desperate to fuck to consider following through with their words._

Then the dirty talk had started to move onto action. Not much – they were both hesitant, unsure if it was what the other wanted. But slowly, gradually, they built it up.

_It started when they were fucking slowly, wrapped in each other. Arthur trailed a finger around Merlin’s hole, loving the feel of the muscle clenching around his cock, and found that there was enough lube to slip his finger in alongside, stroking inside Merlin as he fucked him. They both came embarrassingly quickly._

_Arthur started to go further when he was fingering Merlin, pressing in and stretching with four instead of the three he usually managed before pushing in with his cock, their chests aligned and his teeth nibbling on Merlin’s collarbone._

They finally managed to talk about it, and both agreed that they wanted to try fisting. They even set a date for it, an evening set aside (marked in Arthur’s work diary, of course, with a small, innocent looking star).

_Merlin had been all for trying it straight away, but Arthur had wanted to do his research, making sure he wouldn’t hurt Merlin in the slightest._

_When they got into bed they were nervous – even though they’d been shagging like bunnies for well over a year. Any tension was soon broken when Merlin rolled over and accidentally elbowed Arthur in the face._

_Arthur loved the feeling of his fingers inside Merlin. He loved the way it initially seemed like it would be impossible to fit more than one, before he gradually stretched him. He loved being enveloped in the warm heat, and the way Merlin jerked as his fingers brushed over just the right spot._

_He finally decided that Merlin was stretched and lubed enough (and had whined and begged enough), and tucked his thumb into his hand, pressing it slowly inside. The pressure as his knuckles went in was almost as overwhelming as the look of pure pleasure on Merlin’s face._

_Soon Arthur was wrist-deep and forming a fist inside Merlin (and oh god his entire fucking hand was inside Merlin). He pulled back until Merlin’s rim was stretched as wide as it would go, then pushed back in slowly. He quickly increased in speed and desperation until they both came, dicks untouched, eyes rolling back and moaning like they never had before._

After they’d started, of course, Merlin didn’t want to stop, on top of which he soon decided that he wanted to feel that full while also having Arthur come inside him. Gwaine’s visit was pencilled into Arthur’s work diary for the soonest weekend possible. Neither Arthur nor Merlin could wait.

 

69.

Kink(s): double penetration  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): none

The thing about Arthur is, he needs a _lot_ of stimulation. Like, hands-clawing-down-his-back, teeth-drawing-blood-on-his-shoulder, nails-pressing-tight-against-the-head-of-his-cock levels of a lot.

Merlin does his best to oblige, but he doesn't exactly have a knight's stamina. Too often, their nights end with Arthur twisted beneath him, his face screwed up in an expression more frustration than pleasure, urging Merlin on, _Harder, faster,_ do it, _Merlin, your king commands you,_ while Merlin drips sweat and drives into him as fast as his hips will move. And when his control slips and he comes, Arthur will roll him off and take himself in hand, looking vaguely dissatisfied as he brings himself to a brisk, perfunctory climax.

Merlin is determined to satisfy. Tonight, he's got something special. He waits until Arthur's on his stomach and Merlin is buried in him to the root. Then, with one hand on Arthur's back to hold him down, Merlin leans and retrieves the wooden box he stashed beneath the mattress earlier.

Arthur twists, straining to see. "What is that?"

Merlin shushes him and pushes him down again. He sets the box down and lifts the lid to reveal the object inside, made of smooth, polished leather that Merlin had commissioned special. It shines faintly in the lamplight, enticing, inviting. Merlin grasps it and lets the leather warm in his palm.

There's a vial of oil, too, that Merlin thumbs open and drips along the phallus's length. Arthur twitches when a few drops splash against his hip. "Merlin." His voice is strained now, wanting. Already, it's an improvement.

Merlin hunches over to kisses Arthur's shoulder reassuringly. He strokes the phallus as though it were his own cock, or Arthur's, spreading the oil across its surface until it gleams.

He works one slick finger in first, pressing it beside his cock. Arthur makes a high, questioning sound, but Merlin only answers him with a second finger beside the first.

Already he's breathing harder. His he rocks back, pushing onto Merlin. When Merlin's worked three fingers in and Arthur's taken them eagerly, he gives them a careful twist, then replaces them with the broad, blunt pressure of the phallus's head, nudging at Arthur's hole beside Merlin's own cock.

It pulls Arthur's entrance tight around his cock as he pushes it in slowly. Arthur gasps and jolts beneath him, drops down off his hands to sprawl on his stomach, moaning broken noises into the linens.

Merlin twists the device and adds more oil, and as Arthur gives a broken cry, the phallus's head slides past Arthur's entrance. 

Arthur clenches tight around them both. His groans are nearly lost beneath the thunder of Merlin's pulse in his ears. He grabs at Arthur's hips and drives into him, gripping the phallus's shaft and moving both cocks inside him.

The way he falls apart under Merlin's hands, going wild and desperate as he ruts against the bed, makes Merlin want to keep him like this forever. He pushes the phallus in until Arthur has taken them both to the hilt, then leans forward, his hands braced on Arthur's shoulders, and starts moving within him.

It starts as a slow glide, but quickly falters and succumbs to frantic need. Merlin drives into him, fucks him hard and fast. He could come just like this, but he clamps down on his own orgasm and presses on, teeth in Arthur's shoulder and fingers biting into his sides. Finally, Arthur stops holding back lets himself go. He throws his head back with a cry as he shakes and spends himself on the sheets. There's nothing on his face but ecstasy that shifts into pleased satisfaction as his climax releases him from its grip, and Merlin seeks his own.

He follows after only moments later, clinging tight to Arthur as he empties himself. He holds himself up long enough to slide the phallus out and return it to his box, and then he drops down onto Arthur, boneless.

Arthur twists, rolling onto his back and wrapping Merlin in his arms. "That's wicked, Merlin," he says, and Merlin lifts his head enough to see that he's grinning at the canopy overhead.

"You like it." He doesn't make it a question. It's plain enough to see on his face that Arthur has had the satisfaction he seeks.

Arthur kisses him in answer. He goes lax and pliant beneath Merlin; and the King at last can rest.

 

70.

Kink(s): power play, public sex, voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Uther/Morgana (Gwen), Arthur/Morgana (Gwen)  
Warning(s): non-con

When the doors slam shut behind her, Gwen doesn’t flinch. She strides briskly down the empty length of the throne room with her shoulders back and head held high. She levels her sharp emerald gaze at Uther, who remains seated on the throne at the far end of the room instead of running to embrace her as he customarily does.

He raises a hand clad in black leather. “That’s far enough. Strip.”

Gwen stops short in the center of the room, Morgana’s silken gown and long, coal-black tresses billowing around her. She laughs breathlessly. “Surely I misheard—”

Uther speaks over her. “If you find yourself incapable or unwilling, one of my men will do it for you.”

For the first time, Gwen becomes aware of the knights lined up against the walls on her left and right. Should Uther give the word, they can easily overpower her.

“You,” she snarls, lips curled in disgust, “are a lecherous old man!”

Gwen reaches back, unclasping the familiar fastenings of Morgana’s gown. The fabric slides easily down her shoulders, but she has to shimmy to tug it past her hips. She glares defiantly at Uther as the gown of shining plum and turquoise pools around her. Ordinarily she would feel powerless standing there nearly naked, but in Morgana’s body she is no less than a queen, unbothered by the hot, hungry gazes of half a hundred young men. 

Uther’s leering once-over makes her skin itch and crawl. He chuckles lightly, as if amused by her discomfort. “I present to you the Lady Morgana,” he announces to his audience, pushing to his feet and gesturing towards Gwen. “Here she stands—adorned, perfumed, and powdered as if she goes not to a punishment, but to her wedding bed!”

The knights laugh quietly—likely only because they fear Uther’s rage, but Gwen still seethes. She chose the elegant set of emerald green underclothes especially for the occasion. They are elegant, and enhance Morgana’s natural beauty by emphasizing her striking eyes and contrasting with her full red lips.

“Wherever I go,” she says quietly, “rest assured I will always be dressed like a lady.”

Uther ignores it. “See her vanity for what it truly is: the cry of a virgin girl, begging to be fucked.”

More laughs.

“I would deflower the poor thing myself, but I must keep the oath I swore her lord father, so I have appointed Prince Arthur to act in my stead.”

A cheer rises, and Gwen doesn’t need to turn around to know the crown prince is being escorted inside. But she does anyway, out of respect. Arthur looks just as perfect as she recalls, though dressed simply in trousers and a dark blue tunic. His jaw is set, and he pointedly avoids making eye contact with her, fixating on Uther instead.

He halts next to her and bows awkwardly. “Father.”

Uther inclines his head. “Arthur. You remember what we discussed?”

“Yes, sire,” he says stiffly.

“Good. Get on with it, then.” Uther spins on his heel.

Arthur grimaces. “I can’t just ... fuck her,” he finishes, weakly.

“And why not? If you can’t get it up for Morgana, then I have little hope for your manhood.”

Arthur’s face darkens. “I have known Morgana since we were children. Surely there is some other way to punish her that is less... cruel. To both of us.”

“My decision is final. Fuck the girl. Or if you haven’t the balls for it...”

Arthur snaps, a harsh growl rumbling in his throat as he lunges for her. He pulls her to him so hard that they slam together, her breasts crushed against his chest as he claims her mouth. She snakes her arms around him and kisses him back, because it feels... good.

He owls one eye open to gauge his father’s reaction. Uther looks unimpressed, so he flips her, thrusts against her ass like he’s fucking her. The knights cheer him on while Gwen flushes, surprised to feel that he’s hard already.

He yanks her panties down and she watches a string of something sticky stretch from the fabric to her... to down there. He reaches a hand up between her legs and she squirms as his fingers stroke her, sliding wetly against the sparse, dark hair there and oh god she is... she’s... wet. The sting of his finger pushing inside has her spasming around him, shuddering, gasping in pleasure.

She slumps weakly in his arms and he lowers her, whispering shakily in her ear. “It’ll be easier for you now..."

Gwen shuts her eyes, whimpering.

 

71.

Kink(s): public sex  
Pairing(s): Gwen/Morgana  
Warning(s): None

*

Gwen shifts in her seat, biting her lip as she tries not to let any sound escape.

Morgana is _evil_.

It’d sounded fun, and sexy, when she suggested it. Not to mention that Gwen would agreed to anything with Morgana three fingers deep in her cunt and sucking on her neck. It’d sounded, well, _naughty_ in a way that Gwen sometimes wishes she had the courage to be more often. So she’d grinned at Morgana, kissed her deeply, and said “Fuck yes.”

In retrospect, it may have been a hasty decision.

Morgana takes another bite of her salad, looking supremely unconcerned as she pretends to pay attention to Uther’s long-winded story about some executive vice president who’d been caught in a huge financial scandal. The fingers of her left hand are curled around the small, flat remote control that is causing Gwen so much struggle. 

She shifts again, the slight change in position causing the vibration to shift just right against her clit, and she chokes around a moan, her hand darting out to grab her wine glass, just for something to hold on to.

“Are you alright, Gwen?” Arthur asks from across the table, turning from his father to look at her in concern.

“Mm, yes, fine,” she says, her voice surprisingly even. “Just, uh, swallowed wrong.” She shoots him a smile and takes a sip of wine. Morgana doesn’t even glance at her, but the corner of her mouth tilts up slightly.

Gwen sets her glass down and takes a deep, slow breath. She’s not sure if it’s how shamelessly, utterly public this is, or if it’s the sensation of being completely at Morgana’s mercy, but the embarrassment and want curls hot under her skin, makes her pulse race, getting her wet, just as much as the pulses of vibration in her underwear.

The conversation swirls and she pays almost no attention to it, unable to focus on anything but the sensations coursing through her. That is, until she catches her name. 

“Oh, Gwen’s been very interested in the whole debate, she’s been following it quite closely,” Morgana’s saying and oh, _fuck_ no, she cannot be expected to carry out a conversation in this state. Morgana turns to look at her, and to anyone else her smile may just look normal, but Gwen can see the smirk at the corner of her red lips, the gleam in her eyes.

It’s probably shameful that that turns her on even more.

“Sorry, what was that? I must have drifted off,” she says, grabbing Morgana’s thigh and squeezing. 

She manages to stumble though a response, intelligible enough that no one comments and the conversation drifts away again. Thank god. 

She’s rocking ever-so-slightly into the sensation now, she’s so close, just hovering on the edge. She’s sweating, probably looks like she’s ill, her lips bitten-red and her cheeks flushed. All she needs is a little something, a little _more_ , and she can come, if only Morgana would - 

“Yes, Gwen’s been great about it,” Morgana’s saying to Arthur now. “Hasn’t complained once.”

Gwen hasn’t a clue what she’s talking about, but as she turns to ask, Morgana slids her finger across the remote, switching the vibrator to the highest setting, and leans over and kisses Gwen behind the hear, exactly where she’s most sensitive.

Gwen comes.

She squeezes her thighs together and sucks in a huge breath, her back going rigid and her fingers digging hard into Morgana’s thigh. Morgana’s still talking, presumably diverting attention away from Gwen, since it’s taking everything she has just to stay still and quiet. It feels so fucking good, and it keeps going, wave after wave, as Morgana gradually dials back the intensity of the vibrations until Gwen feels loose and trembly, wanting nothing more than to collapse into Morgana’s side and go to sleep. 

*

“Make sure you get some rest,” Arthur tells her when they say goodnight, his own curious mixture of gentle and commanding. “You seemed a little out of it tonight.”

“I will” she says with a smile. Morgana threads their fingers together and tugs at her hand.

“Alright, gotta go put my girl to bed,” she says, winking, and Gwen rolls her eyes and follows her to the waiting cab.

“You’re evil,” she informs her as they climb into it. “Pure, unadulterated evil.”

“You love it,” Morgana says, leaning over to kiss her.

Gwen kind of does.

 

72.

Kink(s): non-genital erogenous zones, tattoos  
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin

Merlin was officially, as of this very moment, done.

He collapsed onto the couch of their fancy hotel room and watched, glumly, as Arthur edited and re-edited his speech for the umpteenth time. He hadn't even bothered to take off his bloody _tie_.

So far Merlin had tried bribery, threats and persuasion; but nothing worked. Clearly he was left with only one choice.

He extended his leg and, with his bare toe, poked Arthur's thigh.

No reaction.

He poked again.

Several pokes later, he had Arthur's attention in the form of a distracted "hmph". A few more times, and Arthur waved his hand about, trying to swat Merlin away.

One more, and Arthur's hand closed around Merlin's foot.

"Stop being annoying," he said, absent-minded. Merlin had a sharp retort at the tip of his tongue - but he bit it back.

Arthur was - perhaps unknowingly - rubbing his thumb along the sole of Merlin's foot. The touch was slow and soothing, and it made Merlin's toes curl on their own accord.

He bit his lip. But Arthur, of course, did not stop there. His fingers, feather-light and gentle, danced over the soft pad of the foot, rubbing in tiny circles. They toyed with Merlin's toes and then crept up towards his ankle, sliding under the hem of Merlin's jeans.

Merlin stifled a gasp.

"You have a tattoo," Arthur murmured, discovering the small black dragon encircling Merlin's ankle. "Why didn't I know?"

"You never looked," Merlin said, praying for his voice to remain steady.

Arthur nodded. Then he bent his head down and manouvred Merlin's leg until he had the dragon at eye level.

"It's pretty," he said, tracing the silhouette with his index finger.

And then he kissed Merlin's ankle.

Merlin could do nothing to stifle the broken half-moan that followed.

Arthur offered a self-satisfied little smirk, the one that meant he had discovered a weakness and would do everything to exploit it.

He kissed his way down, his mouth hot and insistent the way his fingers hadn't been. He licked a stripe over the pad of the toes; and then he closed his mouth around the big one and sucked.

Merlin whimpered. His cock was rigid, straining the tight fabric of his jeans, but Arthur paid it no mind, opting instead to continue fellating Merlin's toes like somebody's life depended on it.

And maybe - Merlin thought, when a particular swirl of Arthur's tongue made him throw back his head and groan - maybe it did.

He laid back, boneless, while Arthur stripped him of his jeans and T-shirt, to expose more of Merlin's skin, just waiting to be kissed and touched. He bypassed Merlin's cock in favour of mouthing at his inner thigh and then up, up his chest. By the time he reached Merlin's neck, Merlin was a hot, whimpering mess, and Arthur--

Arthur was still wearing his stupid bloody tie.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, his body pressing down on Merlin's. Merlin valiantly resisted the urge to hump Arthur's muscled thigh.

"Hardly," he lied. "I've had better..."

Arthur growled and went down on him proper, holding nothing back - intent, apparently, on ruining Merlin forever for other man.

And Merlin, fool that he was, let him.

 

73.

Kink(s): power play  
Pairing(s): Lancelot/Morgana  
Warning(s): none

“You’re doing very well, Sir Lancelot.”

“Thank you, my lady, that means a great deal coming from you,” Lancelot bowed his head gratefully. “I have been working to my fullest ability.” Morgana grinned and squeezed his knee. “Yes, yes,” she cooed. “I know, dearest Lancelot, and your hard work is most definitely showing. However,” She turned her head and pouted. “Well, what was it you first told me when I gave you the precious gift of your life back?” She peeked up at him from the corner of her eyes.

Lancelot looked thoughtful for a moment then spoke. “I told you… I told you that I am yours to command.”

“Yes,” she pulled the word. “That’s what it was.” Morgana stood up and walk around him, letting her hand run up his arm and rest on his shoulder. A shiver ran through him. “And you want me to be happy, don’t you?” Her words trickled through his ears like velvet.

“More than anything, my lady.” he grabbed her hand. Morgana chuckled softly and took his hand off of her. She knelt down beside him, running a hand through his hair. “Then you will do every single thing I tell you to do.”

“Of course.” 

Morgana loomed over him. She hiked up her dress and climbed onto his lap.

“My lady-“ She laid a finger over his lips. “Shh.” Slowly she lowered her finger, his eyes following. “Let me make something completely understood, Lancelot.” Her voice was severe and hushed; their faces were merely centimeters apart. “I will take care of you. I will feed you and clothe you and make certain you are well-prepared but you will also do whatever I tell you to do. I say jump, you jump. Understood?” Without a word, Lancelot nodded.

“Good.” Climbing off of him, she made a point to rub herself nice and hard over the growing bulge in his trousers. Morgana smirked as a deep, throaty groan came up his throat. “Now I want you to go lie on my bed.” Lancelot sat for a moment, still in shock. “Now!” Morgana barked. 

He rushed over, not making eye contact with her. Up until then she had been kind and patient with and never once raised her voice. He loved her more than anything or anyone else he could think of but he had not feared her. Morgana could sense his growing fear and was feeding off of it. Seeing the change in the way he looked at her (or didn’t) and watching him pick his movements so carefully made her all tingly.

As soon as Lancelot lay down he could feel an invisible force push down on him. Morgana stood over him running the back of her hand down his cheek. “Good boy,” she cooed. She crawled over him and straddled his lap, pushing her hands up his shirt then bringing them back down stopping right at the edge of his pants. With nimble fingers she unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down slowly. Her eyes glistened with lust. “Oh, how delightful,” she whispered. “Lancelot the noble.” She leaned down toward his cock and hovered over it with an open mouth. Her hot breath on his member made him grasp the sheets impatiently. “Would you like me to continue?” 

“Yes, my lady. Very much so.” He breathed. Morgana’s eyes glowed and a pulsating pain shot up Lancelot’s spine. He writhed on the bed. “Say. Please.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Please!” he begged. She released him. “That’s more like it.”

Morgana leaned forward letting her lips touch his ear. “Now, Sir Lancelot, are you a virgin?”

“Y-yes.” With a snap of her fingers the same pain rushed through him again. “Yes, who?”

“Yes, my lady!” he quickly corrected.

“Well then,” she continued. “I want you to make me a promise.”

“Anything, my lady.” He told her out of breath.

“You will not cum until I tell you to do so. Are we clear?”

He swallowed. The fabric of her dress draping over his cock was driving him crazy. “Yes, my lady. Of course, my lady. Please, I’m begging you.”

She grinned. “Such a good, good boy. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

 

74.

Kink(s): power imbalance, (semi-)public sex  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): school-aged characters (16+)

Hearing the door lock behind him sent an instant shiver down Merlin's back. He quickly turned around to face Arthur who was looking at him with that inscrutable expression.

"Strip." Arthur commanded.

Merlin blushed in response. He still hated it when Arthur ordered him in that authoritative voice of his. But his fingers started to work on the button and zip of his trousers all the same.  
He toed off his worn converse before stepping out of his kit entirely, all the while keeping his eyes away from Arthur. The tiled floor felt cold underneath his bear feet. 

Before he could fold his clothes and leave the on top of the toilet seat, Arthur snatched his jeans and shoved a banknote into its front pocket. Merlin didn't even know how much Arthur was paying him... Fifty... One hundred… Five hundred... For Arthur, money had little importance. Merlin simply took whatever he offered. 

Arthur didn’t undress, only taking out his cock from his boxers. It was flushed and half-hard already. Merlin stared at it until he heard a small huff of laughter coming from Arthur. He looked away embarrassed, futilely willing his own growing erection away.

"Come here then, Merlin, don't be shy." 

Merlin swallowed as he stepped into Arthur's personal space, conscious of his awkward, naked limbs. When he was close enough to touch, Arthur reached his arms around him; palming his buttocks and pressing Merlin close so their groins were touching. They both moaned at the contact. Arthur kissed him then, greedy kisses that had already grown familiar. Hips bucking, Merlin quickly caught the intention. He pushed back into the thrusts, spreading his legs a little wider. When he curled his leg around Arthur’s knee for leverage, the fabric of his jeans felt rough against his bare skin. 

When the friction still wasn’t enough, he used his hand he to touch both their erections, palming the moist tip of Arthur's cock and pulling them closer together. Arthur made the most beautiful sounds of pleasure at that and yes they were crazy for doing this. Someone could walk in any second. Even if they had strategically picked the girls' bathrooms for their ‘meetings’ (the cubicles were larger and girls were less likely to hang out there during classes). 

He was way beyond caring. That was probably what scared Merlin most. How he could positively lose himself in this. 

"No... We agreed..." Merlin choked out when suddenly one of Arthur's hands dipped between his buttocks to finger the rim of his arse. A feeling akin to an electric shock surged through Merlin's body at the too intimate gesture. But his body was already betraying him, pressing back against the intruding fingers.

“Just let me...” Suddenly the fingers were gone and Merlin let out a little shocked moan. Instead, Arthur was putting the fingers into his mouth, sucking them while making little obscene noises. Merlin watched transfixed until the fingers were back, breaching the rim without hesitance. One slick - not slick enough - finger pushed in and out of his body, then another one was added, stretching him, pushing deeper and faster. Merlin moaned, cock twitching and damned Arthur for noticing, for growling into Merlin’s mouth as they kissed and sucked and clung to each other, the friction between their cocks growing more heated, almost painfully so. 

A third finger was toying with the rim of Merlin's arse, but before it could join the other two, Arthur gasped, pulling his fingers out and using his hand to steady himself against the wall while the other hand went to his cock, tugging once, twice before coming all over Merlin's groin. Merlin whined at the sudden loss of friction and the unbearably empty feeling that was left by Arthur's fingers. But after a few seconds of catching his breath, Arthur was back. Kissing Merlin's lips and neck wetly, his hand reached for Merlin's cock, slick from Arthur’s seed.

"Next time I _will_ fuck you," Arthur murmured into Merlin's neck as he brought Merlin to completion with several quick, hard tugs.

"Yes," Merlin said breathlessly as he spilled over Arthur's hand. "Yes."

He watched Arthur smooth his hair and zip up his fly not quite wanting to know what he'd just agreed to. Only knowing with dead certainty that, yes, next time he was going to let Arthur fuck him. Maybe then he would finally have the guts to tell Arthur that he no longer wanted him to pay.

 

75.

 **Kink:** bodyswap  
 **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning:** none

Merlin woke to a sharp knock followed by the creak of a door opening. His eyes snapped open. He remembered falling asleep in his own bed, but that wasn’t where he was currently.

He’d been celebrating heartily at Lady Folsom’s parting feast, far too happy to see her go. During her stay, her décolletage and extensive land ownership had enamoured Arthur to the point of stupidity. Merlin had done his best not to hate her, but failed.

Overhearing Arthur’s whispered, “Keep your door unlocked if you’d like company this evening,” had been the last straw. He’d grabbed a tankard and left. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep had been bitter with envy, his mind full of wishes of what could never be.

Now it seemed he was in Lady Folsom’s chambers, possibly still drunk as the night shift he was wearing was lacy and foreign, the _breasts_ it covered even more foreign. Frantic, Merlin patted his face and felt smooth skin and a delicate bone structure that was not his own.

“Good evening, m’lady.”

Merlin’s eyes darted to the person whose knock had woken him. “Arthur!” Lady Folsom’s delicate cadence had never sounded so panicked. He couldn’t explain how he’d gotten here, in Lady Folsom’s bed, in her _body_. He’d be arrested for sorcery, surely. He quite liked his head, even if it wasn’t his own at the moment.

Arthur crept across the room, a single candle lighting his way and a smile on his face softer than Merlin had ever had the privilege of seeing before. Merlin regretted being in no frame of mind to enjoy it.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight.” Arthur sat on the bed, twisting his fingers around one of the thick black ringlets which fell to Merlin’s shoulders.

 _Please go,_ he needed to say.

But Arthur’s fingers lingered over the long curls, very intentionally grazing Merlin’s breast. Suddenly overcome with an intense flush, the easiest of excuses fled his mind.

Arthur brushed his knuckles against fullness of the mound then down Merlin’s side. “Is this all right?”

“Yes,” Merlin said, breathless. Guilt and lust twisted together inside his stomach. He was so close to everything he wanted, but worlds away from it. As Arthur leaned in to kiss him, heat pooled low in his belly and lust won out.

“Are you nervous?”

Lady Folsom was a strong, confident women. Merlin realized Arthur was not expected a blushing virgin. He had to stop this now or act the part. “Are _you_?”

Arthur chuckled, delighted. Merlin surged forward needing to capture that smile for himself.

Gasping, Arthur pulled back just enough to soften the kiss then deepen it. They shifted as they kissed, Merlin falling back onto the mattress with Arthur on top of him, settled between his legs as if he belonged there. Merlin was wet, hot and throbbing where Arthur was pressed against him. 

It made him dizzy with want; he titled hips. The sound Arthur made as they began to rock together was like nothing Merlin had ever heard before. He felt bolder, freer than he’d ever felt. It didn’t matter that this body wasn’t his own, that it was a _women’s_ body. He felt no shame as he began to tug at Arthur’s clothes.

It was _him_ making Arthur come apart, making Arthur curse and rip at the seams of his clothes to get them off faster.

Arthur entered him and Merlin’s control disappeared, his leg spreading wider, urging Arthur deeper. The pace wasn’t gentle. Arthur’s cock filled him, the hard rhythm leaving Merlin buzzing, racing to completion. He scratched Arthur’s back, urging him on, his orgasm just out of reach.

Arthur paused, panting and resting his forehead to Merlin’s shoulder to catch his breath.

Merlin wriggled beneath him. “Don’t stop now, you clotpole.”

Arthur’s eyes widened for just a second and Merlin had a flash of panic. But Arthur began again, pounding into Merlin with the ferocity he usually reserved for the battlefield.

Merlin came, chanting Arthur’s name, his mouth spilling God knew what. When Arthur finally began to tremble with his release, he clung to Merlin like he may never let go. Merlin shattered to realised it wasn’t _him_ Arthur was holding so dearly.

~

Merlin woke in his own bed, in his own body. Arthur lay naked at his side.

Arthur’s eyebrows lifted comically high. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Merlin?”

 

76.

Kinks: public sex, voyeurism  
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Others, Merlin/Others  
Warnings: threesomes, marking, implied unprotected sex 

 

The towel hangs low on Arthur's hip as he makes his way into the sauna. He can hear soft moans from the men around him, hushed breaths against skin. The air is heavy with steam and heat from the bodies moving around the room. To Arthur's right, there's a man on his knees sucking someone off against the wall. Faces blur together as Arthur makes his way to the back rooms, sounds blended together until it's a continuous string of pleasure in the air.

Sex, Arthur thinks, is like art.

He has a boy with blond hair and wide green eyes on his knees in front of him. The red of the boy's mouth is stark against his pale skin, the tips of his ears turn pink from effort. His tongue feels like silk against Arthur's cock and he digs his fingers into the boy's hair to ground himself. Waves of pleasure rip through Arthur's back and he wants to push this boy down on the black tiled floor, open him up and take everything.

He doesn't.

-

There is a boy with dark hair and blue eyes that never takes just one. Arthur watches the curve of the boy's back as the man behind him fucks into him. There are going to be bruises on the boy's hips from the fingers digging in, teeth marks in between the boy's legs.

There's another man, this one with wild eyes and a cheeky grin, that's working his cock in and out of the boy's mouth. The two men move together so that they both press in at the same time. Arthur waits in his corner and it's almost like he can feel what the boy feels, a cock down his throat, as far as it can go, pushing him back into the lap of another man. The boy is stuck there between two pressing forces, and he just takes it, goes limp as he's used.

Arthur listens to the gasps ripped from the boy's mouth. He hears the moans, and he drowns in them.

-

His name is Merlin and Arthur has to share him.

He comes at Arthur with wild blue eyes and quick hands that find their way beneath Arthur's towel. His mouth curves into a smile when Arthur just goes with him. The light in the room casts shadows on Merlin's face, throws half of it into darkness, and it all seems so appropriate.

They are strangers with names that mean nothing, two men fucking because to fuck is to live. Arthur needs this, the feel of skin underneath his fingers, miles of flesh that he can bruise, mark, paint with his teeth. He needs the tightness around his cock, the sounds ripped out from Merlin's throat when Arthur fucks him.

Anonymity is what keeps this place running, faceless fucks against walls. Arthur knows that today he's the one fucking Merlin, but there will be someone else tomorrow. It makes him push faster, harder, until the entire room is filled with their screams, until his hands feel nothing but Merlin underneath him. He's desperate, shaking as he pushes Merlin down harder onto the floor. Arthur reaches for the wall, uses it to lever himself up as he pushes harder into Merlin. He watches Merlin's hands scrambling against the floor for purchase.

It pleases him, so he does it again and again, until Merlin is screaming beneath him. Until Arthur takes everything. And it isn't enough, not until Arthur comes on Merlin's back, not until he digs his fingers into the mess there and presses hard, harder until he can almost believe that the bruise will stay forever.

It never does.

 

77.

Kink(s): powerplay/power imbalance, public sex, non-genital erogenous zones  
Pairing(s): Gwen/Morgana  
Warning(s): Power imbalance dub-con

\---

"You should have said something earlier, Guinevere," Morgana whispers. 

"You're a-" Gwen pauses, struggling to focus. Morgana watches her, fingers trailing down Gwen's smooth skin, pressing just enough to cause the flush on her cheeks to deepen. 

"I'm a what, darling?" Morgana prompts, when Gwen can't continue. 

"A teacher!" she finally gasps "And-"

"I still have desires, darling,." And Morgana strokes over the small of Gwen's back, the tips of her fingers brushing over the swell of her ass, until Gwen has forgotten everything except Morgana. 

"You can't come just from this," Morgana comments. "You're sensitive, but not that sensitive."

\---

Morgana reaches out to steady Gwen when she stumbles over a cord. She trails her hand down the girl's back, and gets rewarded with a gasp. 

"Be careful," she tells Gwen and puts everything out of her mind. It's not until later, when Morgana is home, that she thinks about Gwen and that soft, startled gasp. Her lips had parted so beautifully around that sound. Morgana wants to hear more. Wants to hear what other noises the girl can make. 

-

Gwen hides behind clothes just a little too big and too heavy to let Morgana do anything. So she endeavours to get Gwen out of the layers of her clothing. 

"She can use the help," Morgana tells Mr. and Mrs. Leodegrance, during conferences. "She's very talented and with extra tutoring, she can easily get into any university she wants." 

Morgana never lies; she twists the truth to suit her needs. They thank Morgana profusely, promising that Gwen will start her extra lessons the very next day.

\---

Morgana drags her fingers over Gwen's ass, pulling her panties down, and slides a finger inside the girl. That's all it takes, just a finger curling inside her, and Gwen is coming apart around her, sobbing Morgana's name. Morgana watches her, entranced, and thinks about everything she can teach Gwen. Thinks about the skin on display and how beautiful it will look with Morgana's marks. A tattoo in the middle of her back, inches from the spine.

Morgana will be there to hold her during it and take her home after, fan the arousal and soothe the pain.

\---

Trust from a high school girl, naive and sweet and shy, is easily gained. Morgana touches Gwen more, strokes her fingers across Gwen's shoulders, cups the nape of her neck, presses against her shoulder blades. Gwen says nothing, just bites down on her lip to hide her gasps. She always flushes so beautifully when it happens, and avoids eye contact.

They move slowly, Gwen caught unaware in Morgana's trap, and Morgana biding her time. 

-

It's one of those sweltering early spring days, where a heatwave tricks the plants into blooming and students into shedding heavy winter clothes for lighter materials. Morgana can see the sheen of sweat along the back of her neck, in the hollow of her clavicles. 

"You're sweating," Morgana comments. Gwen startles, reaches up to touch the back of her neck, lovely red flush crawling up her cheeks. "I am too. Since it's just us two girls, we can remove our shirts." Morgana unbuttons her blouse, shrugging it off before Gwen can say anything. "Well? Go on. Take off your shirt."

The blush deepens, but she reaches for the buttons.

"Good girl." Morgana helps pull it off, standing to walk around Gwen. For the first time, she can touch Gwen's bare skin, burning beneath her fingers. "Your back is sensitive, isn't it? Do you think about someone giving you a massage? Lancelot? Arthur?"

"Ms. Pendragon!"

"Well? Who do you think about?"

"I - um - Neither-"

"Neither?" Morgana pauses behind Gwen, slides her fingers around Gwen's neck, tilts her chin up. "Is it someone else you think about, touching you? Dragging their hands down your back and making you moan?"

Gwen's eyes are dark, filled with shame and desire.

"Oh darling," Morgana says. "You should have said something earlier." 

\---

"You can't come like this yet." Morgana lets her fingers rest against the small of Gwen's back. "But you're a talented girl. I know you can learn."

 

78.

Kink(s): voyeurism, public sex, orgy  
Pairing(s): Gwen/Mithian/Annis/Vivian/Elena/OFCs  
Warning(s): casual assumptions of cisgender, situational dubcon

“Today, in honor of Lady Vivian on the occasion of her marriage, we tell the Story of the Lady.”

This is absolutely mad. Gwen shuffles her feet awkwardly, her toes scrunching the blankets on the floors. Her eyes flick from ceiling to floor, because there’s nowhere to look that isn’t naked flesh.

“Every woman has a lady betwixt her legs.”

Queen Annis is presiding over these ridiculous proceedings in an embellished nightgown, her voice floating forcefully over the gathering . The rest of them—all of the ladies who had come for Vivian’s wedding—are clustered naked around Vivian in her bed. Gwen’s shoulder is pressed against Princess Mithian’s, and Lady Elena is across the bed, arm in arm with some other girls. Vivian herself is also nude, her skin and hair shiny with the oils they’d rubbed in with their fingers. 

“…a beautiful but occasionally timid lady whom you must woo with respect and restraint. You must stroke her home,”—and here Gwen snaps her glare away from Vivian, oh dear God, what is Annis _doing_ to her—“…and compliment its fine appointments and ask the lady’s permission to enter. Vivian?”

“I give permission,” Vivian says. She looks relaxed and happy, legs spread with abandon, clearly enjoying all of the attention.

Before this started, everyone had bathed together, which was not so odd. Gwen spent years sharing bathwater with her fellow maids. But tonight was clearly not meant for bathing. Women wandered around the room naked, sipping strong wine, and still, absurdly, addressing each other as Lady This and Princess That. The fire in the hearth roared heartily, and everyone in the room dripped with water, or bath oils, or sweat.

And now, here they are, apparently having some sort of Roman orgy that every noblewoman but her has done before.

Even with her eyes on the bed hangings, Gwen notices when Annis puts both her palms against Vivian’s mound and urges her thighs apart, and Vivian obligingly lifts her knees up. Annis uses her fingers to part the curly hair and skin. “Inside the house lives the lady in the cloak. See? At the top is her head, covered in her hood, and her robes.”

Gwen tries not to look, but everyone else is craning their necks and Mithian makes an interested noise beside her, so she risks a glance. And then another. She has never seen a vagina so exposed before. She’s never even seen her own, and she wonders if she looks like that, all pink and blooming. It does look a bit like a woman in a cloak, with a pink nub encased in a hood that ripples down like a flowing dress.

“As you touch her more and more tenderly along her robes and her body and her house, she will begin to show her face.”

Annis’ fingers make a careful, rolling pinch around the so-called ‘head,’ and Vivian’s breath turns shallow. Even with the embarrassment burning in Gwen’s face, she can feel herself beginning to respond.

“And then, when she is ready, you may ask the favor of a kiss. My lady?”

“Please,” Vivian whines.

Gwen assumes that “kiss” is another metaphor, so she is completely unprepared for the moment when Annis bends and puts her thin lips against that swollen, pink spot. Vivian gasps. Annis moves her lips and purses them and makes a circle with her mouth, and then, oh—

“Remember that all the best kisses include tongues,” Annis whispers throatily before opening her mouth over Vivian’s cunt and licking.

God.

Gwen’s focus is so riveted that she startles when she notices that some of the women around her are moving, their hands working below waist level. Lady Elena is rocking her hips, and Gwen feels a shock go down her spine when she realizes it’s because the woman behind her has her fingers up Elena’s cunt.

“Your Majesty?” Mithian whispers at her shoulder.

Gwen can’t take her eyes off the way Vivian’s feet are flexing, but she becomes doubly aware of the slick between her legs when Mithian’s fingers brush low against her hip.

“Usually, this is when….” Mithian clears her throat, but the undulating, groaning women around them make her point for her. “May I?”

It takes two tries to swallow, Gwen’s throat is so dry. “All right.”

Mithian drops to her knees, and then, surprisingly, everything becomes quite simple: the sight of Elena’s bouncing beasts, the sound of Vivian’s screams, the feel of Mithian’s perfect, pointed tongue.

 

79.

Kink(s): Public Sex, Voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Gwaine/Merlin  
Warning(s): underage (the boys are 16) 

“Oh my god, Gwaine! What’re you doing?” Merlin hisses. He can’t believe what he’s seeing—his friend’s fat cock sticking over the elastic waist of his jogging bottoms, the head barely hidden under his jersey. Merlin gulps and his face flushes. It’s not like he’s never seen another boy’s dick before, but never erect (in real life), and certainly not in a coach full of their footie mates. Anyone could turn around at any second and get an eyeful, and Gwaine will probably get arrested and Merlin’s mum will find out he’s a poof and—

Gwaine grins at him. “Relax. We’ve been stuck in this bloody traffic for hours. I’m bored.” 

Merlin glances around at the other boys to see if anyone else notices. Percy and Leon are in the seat in front of them listening to music. In the seat to the right, Arthur sleeps with his golden head braced against the window. Merlin’s stomach does a little flip, as it always does. Stupid, perfect prat. 

“Mmmm. Feels good.” 

At that, Merlin’s gaze drifts back down to where Gwaine’s hand moves up and down, so slowly that Merlin can see the thick ridge of his cockhead appear through his fist on every stroke. The pretence of the jersey has been entirely abandoned. The skin under Merlin’s arms prickles and starts to sweat. And Gwaine’s still bloody _talking_ —

“Don’t you ever just get so horny when you’re sharing a room with the other guys? Percy’s got a big, thick one, you know? Wish he’d let me beat it off.” 

“Shut up . . . he’ll hear you!” Merlin whispers. His own erection is noticeable no matter how he tries to hide it, stupid jersey bottoms. He shifts uncomfortably and tries to tear his eyes away. Gwaine has a nice dick, but it’s the foreskin that mesmerises Merlin, unveiling and then covering the shiny head on each pass. Gwaine seems to know what he’s doing. He pinches the loose skin and sighs in pleasure as it drags over his cock. Merlin’s dick twitches in sympathy. 

“You’ve got a chub going too, eh, mate? You wanna feel mine?” 

Merlin’s mouth goes dry. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, he’s sixteen for Christ’s sake, but Gwaine’s his friend and doing _that_ with him seems weird. It’s stupid, but Merlin has always imagined waiting for someone special. If he told Gwaine, he’d laugh. No way would Arthur fancy someone like Merlin, anyway.

“Gwaine, we can’t.” But Gwaine laces their fingers together and urges Merlin to wrap his hand around his length. It feels a lot like Merlin’s own dick, but different—velvety smooth and hot, but fatter and not quite as long. Merlin gives it an experimental stroke and Gwaine groans in his ear. Bugger it, if he keeps that up they’re going to get caught. 

“Yeah, just like that.”

It doesn’t take long to get the hang of it—he’s done it enough to himself—but having another boy in his hand, holy shit, he’s really doing this. Feeling daring, Merlin leaves off to wet his palm and then brings it back to Gwaine, who surprises him by pulling his shirt up to unveil a flat plane of belly. 

“Don’t want to get jizz on it,” Gwaine explains with a shrug. “My mum’ll kill me.” 

“Oh, right.” The sight makes Merlin forget they’re still on the bus. Gwaine’s cock seems to grow bigger and more swollen by the second. It leaks all over Merlin’s hand, and a mad thought occurs to him—putting his mouth on it. What would it taste like? 

“Let me touch you, too,” Gwaine says. 

“Um. Okay.” 

Gwaine slips his hand down the front of Merlin’s bottoms. In an instant, Merlin’s aching boner is gripped in a sure fist. He tries not to whimper. It’s an awkward angle but it feels so good, Merlin’s hips shift without his consent. 

Gwaine nips at his ear. “Yeah, you’re gonna make me come.” 

Those words push Merlin over the edge. One, two seconds, and he shoots his load right into his y-fronts. Gwaine follows moments behind with a _lot_ of jizz. It goes everywhere; a streak even lands on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Whoops.” Gwaine dabs at it. “Sorry about that, mate.”

Merlin thinks about asking Gwaine how in the world he can still talk when a soft sound makes him jerk his head to the right. 

Arthur is watching them from under his lashes with dark eyes.

 

80.

Kink(s): Bukkake, Voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Knights  
Warning(s): none

It was their first night back in Camelot after a grueling campaign so opening his door to find his chambers full of Knights filled Merlin with frustration. He was exhausted, cold, and achy, his magic spent from being overworked these last three weeks, and he had been looking forward to _finally_ returning to the bed he shared with Arthur. Merlin felt his magic sparking angrily at his fingertips, only to flare up hotly when he took in the sight before him.

Each of the Knights had laid down his red cape, arranged in a sea of crimson in front of the fire. In the center lay the king, stripped down to his skin and stroking himself, writhing wantonly as his Chosen looked on. Arthur's skin _shone_ in the firelight, copper and shadow battling to lay claim to every inch of him. His hair was a halo of gold, damp with sweat where it brushed his cheeks. It had grown long in their time away and Merlin's fingers flexed with the desire to take hold of it. 

_How could I forget how beautiful he is like this?_

In the battlefield, the king was all hard lines and muscle and steel, aged by stress and weariness.  
But here, the king became his Arthur again. He was softer and more pliant, far more relaxed and almost the prince Merlin had first met. The lines around his eyes melted away and the grim set of his lips went slack as he took his pleasure. It seemed years since Merlin had seen his lover like this and he found himself rooted to the spot, aching in his breeches and unable to look away. It wasn't until someone dropped to their knees and obscured his view that Merlin let his eyes take in the rest.

The Knights were still more-or-less dressed for battle, their clothes still filthy with blood and earth. Some wore only breeches and boots, while others had hastily pushed to their breeches to their knees so that they could get at their cocks. The only things missing were their swords and mail, ferried off to the armoury for cleaning, and the capes upon which Arthur lay. Merlin didn't know if they were meant to remain clothed or if they just hadn't bothered to undress. Save Leon, they were each stroking themselves at a near violent pace so Merlin was inclined to believe it was the latter. 

From behind Percival's broad back, King's lower body was still visible, the muscles in his thighs shifting and bunching as he strained towards release. As Arthur's toes curled and flexed against the red fabric, Percival let out a groan and shuddered, the muscles in his back rippling as he spent himself. He lingered a moment, breathing heavily and murmuring to Arthur, before resuming his place with the others. Merlin had to grip himself through his breeches to keep from spending himself where he stood.

_Gods be good..._

Percival had painted his release across Arthur's upturned cheeks and the sight of it made Merlin's blood race hot through his veins. The same must have been true for the Knights because it wasn't long until they were each spending themselves in turn, their collective seed covering Arthur's face. Thick stripes covered his collarbones and others splashed against his lips, his bottom one still puffy and bruised where he'd taken a sharp blow.

Sir Leon was the last to spend. Merlin noticed that he held back until the others were done, fisting himself almost lazingly as he gazed down at Arthur with a strange look of tenderness and determination. As the others returned to their places, Leon knelt and clutched the back of Arthur's neck almost reverently. 

“Sire...”

Leon stroked the head of his cock across the King's lips once before pressing inside slowly, uttering a low oath as Arthur sucked firmly before beginning to thrust. He stilled not long after, taking his release in silence. Arthur continued to suck gently, easing off only when Leon gave a slight hiss. 

Lying on his back, his cock still hard between his legs, Arthur finally opened his eyes to acknowledge his Knights with a grin. It was the first time Merlin had seen him smile in weeks and for a moment arousal took second to the fondness he felt. But Merlin's arousal flared hotly when Arthur's lust-darkened eyes settled on him. He gave Merlin a smirk as he resumed stroking himself and Merlin reached for his laces as he strode forward...

 

81.

Kink(s): public sex, tattoos (or a tattoo really)  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None

Merlin and Arthur and as much PWP as possible.

~o~

Arthur slams the door shut behind him without looking, and pins Merlin to the wall, rutting against him and kissing hard.

“Want you, _god_ , Arthur.” Merlin moans between kisses, fumbling with Arthur’s pants. Arthur pulls back, his eyes dark with arousal and overwhelming lust. Merlin gulps at the sight.

“Go over there, by the sinks and take off your pants.” Arthur commands, his voice surprisingly steady. “I want to see you bent over, just waiting for me to take you.” Merlin whimpers and scrambles to obey.

Hands shaking, Merlin barely has any time to tug down his pants before Arthur’s hands are on him again, pushing up his shirt and caressing everywhere.

“Someday,” Arthur murmurs, his hands trailing lower and lower as Merlin drops his head forward with a groan, “you’re going to tell me all about this,” and pauses to lick the inked bird on Merlin’s shoulder blade, causing Merlin to shiver and push back against Arthur. 

“Get on with it, you tease.” Merlin spits out between his harsh pants. 

“As you wish.” Arthur pushes in two slick fingers—how the _hell_ had he managed that?—into Merlin abruptly and Merlin jerks backward with a cry.

“Like that?,” and Merlin can feel Arthur’s trademark smirk, in the crook of his neck. Arrogant prat, he thinks before Arthur crooks his finger right _there_ and suddenly Merlin isn’t thinking anything at all except for the blinding pleasure thrumming under his skin. 

Merlin gasps, his hands gripping the sink until it hurts and he grinds back against Arthur, panting helplessly. 

“You love this don’t you,” says Arthur, his voice finally unsteady. “knowing that someone could walk in any second now, see you all hot and bothered, begging for it.”

“Fuck,” Merlin stutters, his hips stilling for a split second. Arthur snakes his arm around Merlin and begins to stroke his cock, hard and fast.

“Bet he’d come over to suck you off,” Arthur says filthy in Merlin’s ear. Merlin flushes scarlet and moans loudly. He can’t help imagining some dark faceless boy on his knees licking from the base of Merlin’s cock to the head, flitting his hot tongue over the slit before swallowing him whole. Merlin chokes.

He’s so close, so _fucking_ close. He opens his mouth to warn Arthur, just as Arthur grips his cock tightly. “Not yet,” he breathes into Merlin’s ear and Merlin wants to cry. 

And then, it’s so much better because Arthur is sliding his cock into where his fingers used to be. It’s almost too much for Merlin, but he’s always liked a little pain with his pleasure so he thrusts back, taking in more of Arthur, and hears Arthur’s strangled groan. Pleased with his power, he does it again—and again, building a brutal rhythm between them. 

He’s pretty sure he is babbling nonsense and punctuating it with _oh god, Arthur_ but Merlin can’t care less, especially when Arthur swivels his hips just right and sends the pleasure racing up Merlin’s spine.

Throwing his head back on a particularly hard thrust, Merlin catches a glimpse of them in the mirror and can’t tear his eyes away. Arthur, hair clinging to his face, mostly dressed and Merlin, his entire body flushed, mostly undressed, and suddenly it’s too much and he comes with a howl.

Behind him, Arthur stiffens and only then does Merlin realize that Arthur managed to put on a condom. Leaving Arthur to the clean up, Merlin concentrates on staying standing and coming down from his high. It’s not long before he’s clean, and Arthur arranges Merlin’s clothes to at least semi-decency, before kissing him senseless. 

“We should do this again,” Merlin says, casually threading his hand through Arthur’s hair. Arthur hums noncommittally, while his hands pull Merlin closer. Smiling, Merlin leans in and— 

“Are you boys all done in there?” a voice echoes from the other side of the restroom door, and they wrench apart. 

“ _Morgana!_ ” 

 

82.

Kink(s): Nipple play  
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin  
Warning(s): none

Arthur collapses against the sheets. Merlin slowly pulls out and lies down next to him. When Arthur looks over he can see that Merlin’s is still extremely hard. His cock is thick and red against Merlin’s pale skin. Arthur itches to touch it. But when he moves closer to Merlin and reaches out, Merlin bats his hand away.

“I can do it.” Merlin says. His voice is strained and trembling.

Lying back down on the bed Arthur tries to keep back a frustrated groan. It had been like this ever since he had come back.

It had been a month since he had mysteriously returned from Avalon. He felt alive for the first time when Merlin wrapped his arms around him, holding him as if he would break or disappear at any moment. But he didn’t disappear. They had made love that very night. When they were done, Merlin always pulled away. If he hadn’t come inside Arthur, he would take care of himself. He would never allow Arthur to touch him the same way he touched Arthur. 

Arthur tried to be patient. But he wanted to be able to take care of Merlin and he didn’t know why Merlin wouldn’t allow him to do that.

Desperate Arthur crawled forward and took Merlin’s hand away from his cock. Merlin’s blue eyes look up at Arthur in shock as Arthur moves on top of him. “Arthur, what-”

“Merlin, why won’t you let me touch you?”

“Arthur, it’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.”

“Merlin, that’s not the way it is any more. I’m not your king. I’m much more than that...at least I hope I am.”

Merlin’s eyes well up. “I _need_ to take care of you. I don’t-” He sighs.

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t deserve to have you take care of me.”

“Merlin-”

“No, Arthur!” Banging his head against the pillow, Merlin squeezes his eyes shut. “I failed you, Arthur. I let you die.” Arthur starts to interrupt him, but Merlin opens his eyes and the depth of pain in his eyes, stops Arthur cold. “There were so many things that I should have done differently. I could have saved you if I had been better and smarter. But I wasn’t and you lost so many years. I need to make up for that, Arthur. I have to. Do you understand?” 

“Merlin, you amaze me! I know the kind of sacrifices that you made for me when we were in Camelot. You always put my needs ahead of your own and you have saved my life in ways that you can’t even imagine. You have _never_ failed me. If you want to make me happy, please believe that.”

Merlin bit his lip as a single tear fell. 

“Please, Merlin.” Arthur leans forward slowly and kisses Merlin’s cheek. “Let me take care of you now. Let me show you how much I love you? Please.”

Merlin just closes his eyes and nods his head almost imperceptibly.

As Arthur finally moves lower and kisses Merlin’s right nipple, he’s shocked when he sees Merlin’s half hard cock fill up quickly. Merlin pushes up against him as he lets out a breathy moan. Arthur licks against the nub slowly and Merlin’s cock is twitching now. 

Arthur looks up at Merlin. “Sensitive, are we?”

Merlin’s cheeks are pink and his gaze is hooded and coy. 

He doesn’t need Merlin to say anything, as he leans down and begins to suckle at Merlin’s chest, he gets his answer when Merlin practically lifts off the bed. Arthur reaches over and rubs Merlin’s left bud between his forefingers, squeezing lightly. He looks up and sees Merlin’s eyes rolling back in his head. 

He licks Merlin’s left nipple with slow, deliberate strokes and it hardens into a hard peak as Merlin continues to writhe and moan louder than he’s ever heard. As Arthur looks down he can see Merlin’s balls tighten and can tell he’s close to coming. Arthur leans back and rubs his thumbs against the nubs as he slowly rubs his crotch against Merlin’s hard cock.  
Merlin comes as he screams Arthur’s name loud and long. Ropes of come land against Merlin’s chest. Arthur licks him clean.

Merlin is breathing heavily as Arthur puts his head against Merlin’s chest, right above his heart. Arthur strokes his hand against Merlin’s chest as he comes down.

Merlin looks down at Arthur with hazy adoration. “Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur smiles and leans up to softly kiss Merlin. “No, thank you.”


	4. Group D (warnings)

83.

Kink(s): tentacles  
Pairing(s): Arthur/tentacles  
Warning(s): explicit adult stuff

 

84.

Kink(s): public-y sex and voyeurism  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur, Morgana, Gwaine, Will  
Warning(s): sad, sad humor.

  


While Arthur and Merlin had enjoyed their weekend away from the prying eyes of their friends, who had no idea about their relationship in the first place, maybe they should had really thought about the people in question; chronically curious and no limit to their genius plans to follow their friends if there were secret getaways involved.

"Wait, what, you're taking PICTURES? PICTURES WHILE MY BEST FRIEND IS GETTING SHOWN TO HALF OF THE WORLD!?"

"Who are you anyway? Have to remember buy a new camera, this is dying on me. Gwaine, they still at it?"

"Oooooh yes. Maybe they should had known next to the open window isn't exactly most private place to go at it. Morgs, you'll give me some of those blackmailing photos, yes?"

"Not in this lifetime, I don't want you wanking to the pictures of my brother and his actually hot boyfriend"

"CAN YOU NOT IGNORE ME? Oh dear god I swear I'll never nose to Merlin's business anymore, my eyesss"

85.

Kink(s): Tattoos/Body Modification  
Character(s): Merlin  
Warning(s): None

**DRAGONLORD**

 

86.

Kink(s): double penetration  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): None?

Merlin and Arthur have fun with a new toy.

 

87.

kink(s): powerplay, tattoos&body mods, non-genital erogenous zone  
pair(s): unspecified male/Merlin  
warning: possible non-con

 

88.

Kink: Powerplay  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur  
Warnings: None

 

89.

Kinks: power play, sounding, double penetration, tentacles  
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin  
Warning: Dub/con

Summary: Arthur thought Merlin lacked boundaries _before_ being magicked into a freaky vine.

 

90.

Kink(s): power play, tattoo, double penetration, magic tentacles, voyeurism, non-genital erogenous zones (nipples) - bonus bondage and breathplay  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur  
Warning(s): powerplay, bdsm, breathplay

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/wvqbGoE.jpg)

click for full size

 

91.

Kink(s): tentacles!  
Pairing(s): Merlin/plant  
Warning(s): None

Merlin was feeling bored, horny and experimental. Things escalated from there.

 

92.

Kink(s): Tentacles!  
Pairing(s): Merlin/Tentacles  
Warning(s): Tentacle stuff is pretty much always non con so - NON CON (or dubious consent AT BEST)

 

93.

Kink(s): Tentacles!  
Pairing(s): None really but it could be Merlin/Mordred  
Warning(s): Full frontal nudity


	5. Group A (clean)

01.

 

"Nice tits though," Gwaine said, by way of hello and long time no see, and Arthur cum ... Merlin never caught her name, looked like she wanted to punch him in the face but managed to restrain herself.

She did have a nice pair of them, but Merlin knew better than to say that just now. They ended up in the bar after the conference, after talking too much to people because it was the done thing. And after the bar they ended up in Merlin's room, which was just as well with how much he'd not taken his eyes off her.

That's the way these things went sometimes, nice tits and all.

"If he could implant a womb he'd have me do it just so I can pop out babies for him," she was saying now, perched in the one chair in the room as Merlin leant against the desk. "For the record, nothing to make babies inside," she said when Merlin paused probably a moment too long as he digested that particular mental image.

The edge of her bra peeked out from underneath her blouse, and Merlin shifted his stance because he wasn't that kind of guy. Except it was his room, and they'd last talked, inverted commas, some five years ago and he barely remembered that. (Sort of)

_So what do you have?_ seemed rude but it rested on the tip of his tongue nonetheless. Gwaine banged on the door to get them to go out but Merlin shouted back he might join them later.

"You alone?" Gwaine asked after a pause, then fucked off when Merlin didn't answer. 

"Do you want to fuck though?" she asked once they'd both exhausted studying the skyline and non-talking about weather and work. She tugged at his sleeve.

Merlin's tongue was somewhere in a cat's mouth on the other side of the room, so he just went with it, past shirt and blouse falling by the wayside and tits slipping free, to her on her knees with her mouth on his cock before he'd even quite got the trousers off. He was playing with her nipples, nice handfuls of breasts. It'd been five years and all, but she looked nothing like the person he'd known, and then she did a little, in fleeting glimpses, twists of her lips, eyes looking up at him as she sucked him.

"I sucked your cock," Merlin blurted out, no less rude. She grabbed his hands, pulled it between her legs underneath her skirt, past the fabric of the panties. "Same thing." 

Merlin's fingers went inside.

"Shit," he said and didn't mean it. She huffed around his cock, got her fingers wet on it and pushed them in alongside, making it all glide a little easier.

They ended up crotch to mouth on the bed, her fingers going for his arse because clearly one of them had some memory of last time (another city, another hotel, and they'd all been younger and different, albeit to different degrees). Five seconds, ten at a stretch, and eating her out wasn't much different to sucking her cock, his cock, her cock before.

She made him bent over the bed and fucked him with her fingers until he creamed all over her hand. She made him eat it, and he did, flushing hot red and stomach pulling tight in all the best ways. She smoked out of the window after, still naked, sitting on the sill, legs splayed to show off her pussy, breasts hanging down her chest, watching him.

Merlin dropped the duvet away and stepped across to the window, got a condom and some lube on and slipped into her. The city stretched out far underneath them, cars and people going about their life, as he fucked her against the window with her clamping tight around him.

"Was it better or worse like this?" she asked when Merlin cleaned up, lips curled into a smirk, putting out the cigarette, pulling on her panties, then her bra.

"Different," Merlin said, diplomatic. He thought _tits_ , but he'd spent too much time around Gwaine maybe. 

"Better for me," she said, and Merlin had a profuse apology somewhere but she waved him off. "I'll see you." She left him standing with a full condom in one hand and a limp dick between his legs.

Maybe it had been better indeed. Not too different either, not really. Sex, really, nothing too different about that at all.

 

02.

 

“I told you, Arthur. This is the only way.”

Arthur stared down at the knife in his hand warily. He could handle all manner of weapons, but _this_...

“You can’t hesitate,” Merlin told him. “Powerful magic like this needs a conduit, and the people of Camelot will soon _starve_ if I don’t become that vessel. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you unless I had no other choice, Arthur. I can’t do it myself.”

Merlin had tried explaining the limitations and rules to magic before, but even though magic was no longer banned, Arthur still didn’t really understand it. The only thing he could comprehend at the moment was that Merlin wanted him to carve a sigil into his chest.

“For Camelot?” he asked.

Merlin nodded.

Arthur raised the knife and began cutting into Merlin’s flesh.

-

Arthur knew better than most how easy it was to sink a blade into skin. But that had always been in training, or on the battlefield. Cutting into Merlin’s skin was neither of those things, and Arthur could hardly believe that Merlin trusted him enough to do it.

Merlin was unclothed, because the process was a messy one and he said he hadn’t wanted to get any blood on them. Arthur, however, was steadfastly ignoring that fact as he continued to dig into Merlin’s skin, slowly forming the symbol that Merlin had drawn out for him.

It should have been terrifying, but Arthur was more terrified by the fact that he found the sight of Merlin standing there—eyes tightly shut and hands clenched into fists against the pain—captivating. Of course, he imagined Merlin would think him a freak if he admitted that, if he admitted that he found it sexually stimulating to _cut into his best friend with a knife_.

Arthur glanced down for a moment, and blinked when he saw that Merlin’s toes were curled. When he looked up again, he noticed that Merlin’s breathing was quicker.

Merlin was...aroused.

Arthur swallowed; he hadn’t expected that, and despite that he _knew_ the entire situation was fundamentally wrong, he felt himself growing hard.

But there was nothing to be done about that. What he was doing to Merlin, it was for _Camelot_. So he continued working away, carving into Merlin’s flesh, licking at his lips unconsciously as some chunks of skin fell to the ground here and there. The sigil had to be good and deep, because otherwise it might heal before Merlin had completed his task.

Arthur found that he could control how Merlin reacted depending on how deep or shallow he went with the knife, and when Merlin whimpered, he knew it definitely wasn’t from pain—not with how Merlin’s cock was hardening as well.

Merlin exhaled shakily. “Arthur, _Arthur_ ,” he whispered, and Arthur couldn’t think about that, he had to finish the symbol.

-

The second he was done, Arthur tossed the knife to the side, and Merlin sagged in what seemed to be a mixture of relief and disappointment. In something of awe, Arthur reached forward and dragged his fingers through the blood; the action caused Merlin to moan, and before Arthur could stop himself he leaned in and licked at one of Merlin’s nipples.

The sigil hadn’t touched them, thankfully, because Merlin’s nipples were perfect; tight and firm and gorgeous, and injuring them in any way would have been a mortal sin. Merlin seemed to love it as Arthur paid attention to his nipples, if his gasps of pleasure were anything to go by.

His chest was still oozing blood, and the blood was getting smeared everywhere. Arthur’s hands were coated in it, and when Arthur brought his head up to kiss Merlin, a streak of blood was left on Merlin’s face as Arthur stroked it.

They kissed intently, mindless of the blood. One of Arthur’s hands drifted down to continue playing with one of Merlin’s nipples, and without warning, Merlin came with a wild cry, without even being touched.

Arthur watched as Merlin came down from his orgasm slowly, and he smiled at Arthur, who was simply in awe of how beautiful Merlin was. Arthur stroked Merlin’s hip lightly, uncaring of the fact that he hadn’t come yet. Merlin pressed one final kiss to Arthur’s lips before he closed his eyes and began chanting the spell that would save Camelot.

 

03.

 

Arthur watched Merlin surreptitiously through half-hooded eyes as he made his way around the banquet tables, his hidden agility showing through with his smooth flow as he wound his way through the crowd of guests and other servants. Arthur liked this side of Merlin, the side he seldom showed anyone; it was only now, when he was on a mission that he dropped his guard around the masses. He chuckled deeply remembering a time when he’d scoffed at the idea of Merlin keeping secrets, yet everything about him was secret- a mystery to solve, a gift to unwrap, a quest all its own.

“Sire?”

In a very unprincely fashion, Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin hearing Merlin’s soft voice so near. He looked sideways into deep sapphire eyes. “Mer _lin_ ,” he said with gruffness to mask his surprise. “What is it?”

“Your wine , Sire.”

“What about it, Merlin?”

“You’re about to drop it.”

“What?” Arthur began indignantly then looked to his hand precariously holding the goblet. He carefully set the goblet on the table and out of harm’s way. “Don’t you have something to be doing?”

Merlin appeared to ponder this for a moment, making sure Arthur was watching him as he let his tongue sneak out ever-so-slightly to caress his right canine, the way one might if one was lost in thought. Arthur knew better of course, but he wasn’t about to play into Merlin’s hands so easily- even if he did have to hastily adjust his clothes to accommodate the sudden tightness of his trousers.

After a moment of thoughtfully rubbing his tooth in soft circular motions around and up and down, he smiled. “Of course, Sire, looking after supercilious prats.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and waved his insolent manservant away. If he stayed that close Arthur might not be responsible for his actions, and while he was certain that he and Merlin would enjoy themselves, he doubted very much that Lady Lenora and his father would.

Merlin stepped back, understanding what wasn’t being said, and knew full well he was only exacerbating the prince’s problem. He smiled to himself; this was going to be fun.

All through the banquet, Merlin stayed in Arthur’s field of vision. Whenever Merlin had the chance, he would flash a soft smile seemingly at nothing, but he knew Arthur was watching. Arthur always kept an eye on him, sure that at any moment he’d have to bail his idiot manservant out of some debacle or other, either that or Arthur simply liked to watch him. He wasn’t sure which thought comforted him more or frightened him less. But tonight, as was often the case, he was glad for it. It meant Arthur played right into his hands. He’d smile, lick his lips, and began a slow, tortuous caress of his tooth. Merlin could see Arthur’s discomfort even from across the hall. He was going to be in so very much trouble once they were back in Arthur’s chambers; Merlin was looking forward to it. 

Hours later, the banquet was finally over, winding down enough for it not to be unseemly for the Prince to leave. Merlin followed behind Arthur as they made their way to the prince’s chambers. Merlin barely had time to close the door before Arthur was on him; pushed up against the door, Arthur’s teeth scraping along the nape of his neck.

“You,” Arthur said with a nip to Merlin’s neck, “are going to pay for that.”

“Sire?” Merlin asked feigning innocence.

“You know what,” he growled, raking his teeth hard across his neck and shoulder for emphasis.

“Arthur…” Merlin breathed softly against the wood of the door. “Please?”

A second later, Merlin stood face to face with his already flushed lover. Slowly, Arthur smiled, bright and beautiful, and Merlin attacked, hands coming to hold Arthur’s head, positioning him for the best angle. Merlin dove in full force, first renewing his acquaintance with Arthur’s tongue and the sensitive roof of his mouth, but that wasn’t his target. His target stood, front and not quite centre, and he latched onto it with gusto. 

Arthur mewled as he wrapped his arms around his lover, his body becoming increasingly dead weight as Merlin flicked and licked and _sucked_ on his tooth driving him insane with need. Part of him hated that Merlin could do this to him, but mostly he loved it, the trust and intimacy.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered into his mouth, tongue still teasing his extended tooth, “come for me.”

 

04.

 

**Title** : Standing O

The music took on a life of its own, thrumming and aching with a heavy bass, moving through the writhing crowd, touching each body like a hungry lover. The dancers turned into the caress, turned into each other, sweating and starving, moving because they couldn’t stop. Standing alone on the platform, DJ Merlin moved with liquid, hypnotic grace. As far as Arthur was concerned, watching Merlin was even better than listening to him, and he couldn’t get enough of the loose limbs, the easy smile, the eyes crinkled in concentration as he guided his music through the room.

Arthur might have been the only one in the party who saw and who watched. They were all caught up in their own worlds, created by Merlin’s beat, augmented by their own rapid heartbeats. Arthur moved, too, gliding with the music until he stood beside the platform. The sight of Merlin was even more amazing up close. The sound board was an extension of his body, the turntable like a manifestation of his soul. And when he looked up and saw Arthur there, he caught a flash of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Do you have a request?” Merlin shouted.

Arthur did, but it had nothing to do with music. Without speaking, he took another step closer, and another, then stepped up onto the platform. Merlin backed up slightly as Arthur invaded his space, sending him a questioning look. Arthur tilted his head slightly, giving the other man a reassuring smile. They’d never been formally introduced, but everybody knew who the DJ was. And everybody there knew who the host of the party was.

Protected by the dim lights and the smoke, Arthur lost no time in making his move. It was not the most subtle move. In fact, most of the time, a move like that would earn him a slap in the face. But when he reached for--and found--Merlin’s stiff cock, Merlin only quirked his lips as if to say how did you know? But Arthur understood the power Merlin wielded on the floor, understood how that power might affect him. He massaged the stiff dick through his jeans, flexing his fingers to coax more blood to the throbbing flesh.

Arthur threw a quick glance over his shoulder, but nobody noticed him. And nobody saw when he sank down to his knees, his mouth already watering in anticipation. From the moment he saw the black-haired DJ, he’d been half-obsessed. He only threw this lavish party to have an excuse to get Merlin exactly there, exactly like that. Now the moment had finally arrived, he wasn’t going to waste another second.

The music was even louder under the table, more insistent in his bloodstream. He unzipped Merlin’s pants and pulled his thick cock out, letting the head skim across his waiting lips. He tasted like his music--salty and hot and rich and low. Arthur wrapped his lips around the crown and gripped Merlin’s narrow hips with both hands, yanking him forward and deeper, driving his shaft all the way down Arthur’s open throat. Did Merlin even know his name? Did he recognize Arthur at all? And, most importantly, could Arthur drive him wild enough to force an error?

His mouth was wet and sloppy and he didn’t have a single ounce of finesse. HIs own cock was so hard against his thigh that his pants cut off his circulation, and he could feel the vein throbbing. He shifted on his knees, but it didn’t do any good. The music shifted suddenly, became something violent and hectic. Something Bacchus himself might approve of. Arthur shifted with it, unleashing his hunger in a torrent, fucking his own throat. But no matter how hard he worked, no matter how often he shifted his own rhythm, he couldn’t coax Merlin into losing his concentration.

The beat picked up faster and faster, until Arthur felt like he was trapped in a fever dream. Everything became surreal, concentrated, perfected. The throbbing against his tongue turned into a flood and the hot, sticky rush down his throat triggered a response from deep inside of him. His zipper dug into his flushed dick, but that didn’t stop the sudden jerking, the satisfying rush of his own orgasm.

The crowd cheered and that was when Arthur realized the mic beside him, and the camera on the platform, picked up every sordid second. He couldn’t help but smile--that definitely deserved a standing ovation. 

 

05.

 

You Need Only Obey

 

”Stand.”

Merlin’s voice is calm when he looks down on where Arthur kneels before him on the carpeted floor. Arthur hesitates only slightly as he rises because he knows that whatever punishment he’ll get, he’s deserved it. When Merlin reaches to pet the hair on his neck, Arthur can’t help but lean back into the touch.

He desperately wants to meet Merlin’s eyes, to beg his forgiveness, but he forces himself to keep his eyes properly averted. He has a crawling need to feel Merlin’s body under his fingers, to make up for his mistake – but no. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Repeating the words inside his head helps. It turns into a mantra to keep him grounded and sane.

“Oh, pet,” Merlin says softly and slowly runs his other hand over Arthur’s naked chest, surely feeling the minuscule tremor running over Arthur’s skin as he does so. “You thoroughly messed up today.”

Silence. Arthur hasn’t been given a direct question and that means he shouldn’t answer. That’s the rules.

He needs to obey the rules.

Leaning in, Merlin lets his forehead rest against Arthur’s for a moment. He presses a proprietary kiss to the corner of his mouth, just out of reach for Arthur to return it, and takes a step back. 

Arthur has to wait for whatever his Master decides to give him. He makes an effort not to seem neither anxious nor eager, although his body trembles in anticipation of Merlin’s touch – and the impending punishment.

After a couple of minutes, the waiting’s over. Seemingly satisfied with Arthur’s behaviour, Merlin orders, “Strip. All of it.”

They’ve done this before, but this part always makes Arthur nervous. What if someone bursts in and sees them? Merlin never locks the door.

He unzips his trousers before he awkwardly toes off his shoes and socks. Slowly, he takes off his jeans and pants and kicks them away. A blush of excitement travels up Arthur’s chest and he hardens when he thinks about what Merlin might do to him.

Merlin hums approvingly as he watches Arthur before he casually leans back against his desk.

“Come.”

Arthur obediently closes the distance between him and his Master.

Merlin unbuttons his trousers and takes his cock out. There’s no doubt what he wants Arthur to do. As Arthur starts to kneel, he says, “No, do it standing. Bend down and suck my cock and make sure you make it good. I’m going to fuck you afterwards and I don’t think you’ve deserved any lube today, have you, pet?”

Arthur bows his head. “No, Master.”

“You’re right, you haven’t. So make sure you slick me up enough with your pretty mouth.”

Supporting himself with his hands on either side of Merlin’s hips, Arthur bends down and takes the tip of his cock into his mouth. When Merlin lets out a quiet gasp and takes a firm grip on his hair, Arthur murmurs contentedly. He knows he’s good at this. 

The grip isn’t controlling at first, just a reminder of who’s in charge. Arthur can take his time slowly working his way down Merlin’s cock, using his tongue to draw delicious sounds from his Master as he goes. When Arthur gets all the way to the root and begins to suck in earnest, Merlin’s grip on his hair hardens and Arthur stills.

“Make it wet. Last chance.”

It’s not really a chance at all, because Arthur’s head is kept in place when Merlin thrusts up into his mouth a few times before pulling him away. He tilts his head upwards to get a good look on Arthur’s sweaty face. Arthur knows his lips are glistening with saliva, can imagine how debauched he looks.

There’s a knock on the door. “Sir?” a female voice calls.

Arthur freezes in horror, but Merlin doesn’t seem to mind at all – even though he hasn’t even tucked himself back in.

Leaning in, Merlin whispers in Arthur’s ear, “Should I let them in? Let them see how I treat my employees when they’ve misbehaved and lost my company’s money? Let them watch as I fuck you over my desk? Hmm? Answer.”

Arthur’s trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, but his vocal response is the one he’s was taught so many months ago and his eyes never leave the floor as he answers.

“I am yours, Master, and you are free to do with me as you please.”

 

06.

 

When Arthur had been very young, a knight that hadn't even been his favourite had given him a piece of unasked for advice. 'Focus on your breath,' he'd said. 'It is all you have, in the end. And it is all you need.'

Arthur had disregarded it, until the first time he'd been bested so hard by an opponent that the air had been thumped from his lungs, exiting his body the very moment his body needed it most.

On his knees, gasping like a fish, Arthur had gained wisdom he would hold close to his breast the remainder of his days.

\---

Here's a coil: Merlin does his very best to demonstrate a complete lack of care about proper space.

Arthur can withstand a lot, of course he can, but this manservant with his habit of hovering clumsily… 'Merlin,' Arthur murmurs firmly, crossing his arms and trying not to attract any undue attention. His fingers twitch when Merlin leans in closer. 'Step back, please.'

'Sorry,' Merlin whispers, not sorry at all but stepping back, just far enough that Arthur can no longer feel warm, wined breath upon his neck.

For here's another coil: Merlin is only a little bit taller than Arthur.

Mildly appeased, Arthur breathes in, breathes out. Ignores the heat that is spreading from the back of his neck to the rest of his limbs, making him languorous and itchy all together.

But Merlin with wine is a Merlin who forgets, a Merlin who drops even more things, a Merlin who repeatedly stands much too close, despite further scoldings. A Merlin who tonight delights in leaning into Arthur and chuckling around indelicate comments to do with the guests in the hall.

By the end of the celebrations, Arthur's jaw hurts from suppressing a smile. He's never been so glad to get back to his chambers and dismiss his red-cheeked manservant.

When Merlin disappears through the second door, Arthur inhales and exhales deeply, unsurprised to find the stream of air shaky, uneven, unsettled. He sheds his clothes and lumps them in a pile, uncaring of everything but getting to his bed, which welcomes him with comfort and warmth and the lingering scent that Arthur swears is Merlin, Merlin and wine but that might just be Arthur's body wishing these things, Arthur's breath focused on Merlin's breath, warm and humid and gliding across his skin, across the tiny hairs and pores and sweat and pulses of life…

Arthur groans and takes himself in hand, closing his eyes. All he has to do is imagine Merlin's breath running all over his body and he's hard, wanting to rut against his sheets like he's still in his thirteenth summer.

He feels his breaths grow heavier, and shifts, shifts until his head hangs off the bed. His airways constrict pleasantly and yes, yes, that is all he needs, his hand moving strongly against his cock, the other clenched in the sheets, eyes shut, pictures playing against his eyelids, of waves and fields and dark hair and an open mouth, until there are starbursts there and he's coming, spending onto his hand and stomach and sheets.

His chest heaves and he sits up immediately, the air rushing back into his lungs with a hiss, his eyes opening wide, sweat prickling at his hairline. He feels most indubitably, most indelicately, and most gloriously _alive_.

\---

'Sire…'

Arthur feels, rather than hears, the word, as warm air wafts across the back of his neck. Unbidden, his body curls into the pillows with a shudder. He covers with a grumble: 'Merlin, whatever it is, it's too early for it.'

He can imagine Merlin's insufferable grin, imagines him filled with damnable energy while Arthur's hiding under his covers like a child.

He's startled when hot air splays against his neck once more. He doesn't dare move, doesn't react, doesn't reach up, is certain if he does it will prove be a trick of his mind, running through his fingers like smoke.

He schools the air in his lungs, arranges his face appropriately, and sits up. He sees just what he expected: his manservant bustling about as he should be, nattering on as he always does…

Except that when he turns, Arthur sees a flash of amusement in his eyes, of mischief, of understanding, on his face. It's gone nearly instantly, Merlin's mouth instead open and filling up the room with words like always.

Well, Arthur thinks. This manservant may not be as useless as he seems.

A most jumbled coil, indeed.

 

07.

 

He remembers her not so long ago. The daughter of a servant to the King—a blacksmith by trade—her hands still chaff from years of working as maidservant to then Lady Morgana now turn rogue. A queen standing regally before him as her devoted husband taps him on the shoulders naming him one of his to serve at the round table.

The smile creases her lips oh so slightly when her eyes bear their full weight and focus on him. Her voice no louder than a whisper when she speaks to him in private, words coming from her lips, tickling against his ear, she breathes soothingly, “Trust in me,” as she pulls him into a narrow alcove just off the main passageway to the kitchen. Her finger presses to his lips as he stifles a protest, “this is a secret we can share together.”

Secrets are no new thing to the newly made knight. With threats on his life for practicing what he was born to be, Mordred knows the risk, but the feel of those calloused hands on his lips tracing down the length of his jawline, fingering along the outline of his Pendragon sigil, bringing his arousal to full mast as she leaves him wanting more, traipsing faint kisses along his jaw, murmuring softly in his ear.

“You are my husband’s knight, but you must protect your queen,” she places his hands on her hips, ordering in that gentle way of hers, “and I order you to protect me from wandering eyes.”

Heat radiating off his palms permeates from his Queen’s body, she is giving him power, but she has all of it. His head shakes with uncertainty as he says, “I don’t think we should be doing this, your Grace.”

“Please,” she coos, kissing him again ever so gently, tugging on his smallclothes, “your Grace is what you would refer my husband. My name is Guinevere.” She pulls him further into the alcove, little resistance given to need.

Her lips crushing against his as she tries to get more from him, the resolve not to touch his King’s Queen losing as her tongue slides along the ridge of his lips uninhibited; she removes him from the constraints of his smallclothes, bending on her knees, taking him full in her mouth. Slowly, she hums, bounces her head as she sheathes his sword deeply in and out. With him good and ready, she removes her mouth from him and lifts up her skirts, showing him how wet she is.

Gwen smiles as she fingers herself, “Your queen is waiting, good sir, Knight. Come protect me.”

For a half a second, he couldn’t think straight, this beautiful, dark skinned woman. He pulls Gwen closer to him, legs wrapping around his waist, entering her wet folds—queen be damned—her back arching as she squeezed his member gently. The pull only making him harder as she nibbles once more on his ear, whispering, “Come and be with me,” her legs constricting him, squeezing him as he spills himself inside his wanton queen. Pumping a good three times before unloading again, he pulls out and notices the dribble down her leg before he sees the remnants still on his cock.

Her mouth angling once again to swallow him, grinning as she comes back up, cups her hand over him finishing him off, “My knight will come and protect me again tonight when my husband leaves for his hunting trip.”

Her eyes did not joke around. She gave him a tap on his out of the alcove.

His body was ready. 

 

08.

 

**XVI: The Tower**

It starts normally enough. Gwen is barely upright, dozing in an uncomfortable chair by Morgana's bed, a torn tunic lying half-mended in her slack hands. A burnt-out candle on the side table tells the tale: poor, faithful Gwen, sitting up by Morgana's bed to watch over her troubled dreams.

A dream, an old one. She remembers how this went. Gwen would never presume on their closeness to climb in, no matter how tired she was, laugh with embarrassed shyness no matter how many times Morgana told her she was welcome. So meek, so proper, until Arthur annoyed her into courage, bent her from her orbit around Morgana.

In reality, Morgana would stay silent and let Gwen snatch what rest she could. But here she sees herself rise and gather Gwen into her arms, easing her from the chair to lie down on the bed, warm and yielding against her body.

But this is a dream, and she is in control here. If she had dared then, she would have loosened Gwen's clothes, to make her more comfortable, and Gwen would sigh, dreaming, and turn, melting softly against Morgana as she wakes. So she does, and yes...

Gwen smiles, sinking back into sleep as Morgana's heart races with her own daring. She rests her palm on Gwen's soft cheek, marvelling as Gwen nuzzles into it. A whisper in her ear - _touch her, sister, she is yours_ \- Morgana hesitates, confused. But Gwen sighs again, breath sweet, and Morgana cannot resist, letting her fingers sink into the thick, lively curls as she's always wanted.

Like a living creature, the hair resists her at first, then snares and tangles her fingers, and she laughs, coiling a lock around her forefinger.

Then it tightens, and while Morgana stares, Gwen's hair seems to grow longer, into a writhing serpentine mass that wraps around her and drags her backwards, away from Gwen. She struggles uselessly against the black strands cutting painfully into her wrists and reaching around her neck and ankles, slipping inexorably under her clothes to bind her all over, as though she were a fly being wrapped by a spider.

Morgana opens her mouth to call Gwen, because surely this nightmare would stop if only Gwen woke, Gwen would never push her away like this - _but she already has, sister_ \- and Morgana remembers, one morning, Gwen and Arthur by a window, starting apart guiltily.

Then Arthur is there, in her bed with Gwen, who smiles up at him while the mad tangle of hair drags him in.

Their clothes fall away, and Arthur, golden and bowing over Gwen's body, bends to bite at Gwen's soft lips and down to her slim neck, while his hands, guided by taut puppet strings, run greedily over Gwen's breasts as Gwen moans wantonly, clutching at him with clawed hands and treacherous entangling locks. Gwen spreads her legs - It should have been her, Gwen was hers first - Morgana swallows outrage, and as Gwen's hair ripples and tightens around her, she realises it has become harder to draw breath, and the dark strands are cutting into her soft skin, pinching her where she is most sensitive.  
Pain, and a strange tingling urgency spreads inside her as she struggles for air, and she can't decide if she wants to rub against the knife-sharp strands or flinch away, and she is panting in time to Arthur's wet thrusts into Gwen - she feels like an intruder and she feels like she is fucking them, and something breaks inside her in a bright flash of agony and shocked pleasure when Gwen wails her completion, and Morgana cries out as Arthur does.

 

09.

 

This had escalated pretty quickly, Leon thought in the middle of the act. 

Or maybe someone said it? He had no idea. 

All he could think about right now was the way Arthur’s lips looked around Merlin’s cock, the sounds both made, how devoted and desperate the young fresher looked, so eager to get it all. His mind was spinning out of control, probably because of the many shots they took, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter as long as Arthur kept exposing his pretty pink ass and kept sucking everyone’s dick.

This wasn’t the plan at first—they were all just down to get a few drinks and watch the match, but Arthur had lost it really quickly. How much? Four shots?

Merlin groaned, grabbing Arthur’s hair and pulling at it, looking suggestively at Gwaine, who had just left his bottle on the table. The latter grinned and stood up, walked in their direction and lifted Arthur’s bum.

They all groaned—the man really had an _awesome_ backside. Arthur whimpered a little when Gwaine started rubbing at his hole, pressing but not yet entering. He massaged the beautiful bum and went down on his knees, groaning unreservedly when he caught sight of Arthur’s hole, and going straight at it, lapping enthusiastically. Arthur moaned, and Leon’s cock was _in pain_. 

He started kissing Percival at some point, stroking him feverishly. When he turned back his attention Arthur was already sucking Lance’s dick, Merlin and Gwaine taking turns at spitting and lapping at the blonde’s entrance. Leon suddenly wanted to participate, especially after watching the way Arthur’s hips buckled at their stimulations. Percival seemed to be thinking the same way, for he simply stood up and went there as well, but instead of lapping he fucked him with his tongue, Arthur’s strangled cries vibrating through Lance’s dick. 

It was too much.

Leon looked at Elyan, so seemed to be in some sort of trance, and pushed him against the couch, snogging him senselessly. His friend pushed him away softly, only to dove down and take him in his mouth. _Yes_ , Leon thought approvingly, as Elyan worked his way with his dick, licking and sucking and taking him all the way in. There was a cry beside them, and when he turned he found Merlin sprawled on the bed, Arthur—young, supposedly _straight_ Arthur—taking him in and moaning deliciously. Leon couldn’t place their young, eager and somewhat naïve friend as Arthur jumped up and down, rolling his hips like an expert and saying the naughtiest things. He arched his back and looked at Percival, whose eyes were shining with intent. He accommodated Arthur and bent him a little, Merlin moaning something intangible. Gwaine climbed to the bed and crawled his way until his dick was floating above Merlin’s face.

Arthur howled when Percy found his way in, Merlin arched at the new sensation, drawing cries from the blond. Percy fucked him senselessly; Merlin couldn’t move at all, for the friction and tightness was killing him. Leon watched, fascinated, as Gwaine all but pushed his dick inside Merlin’s mouth, positioning himself in an awkward angle, and bending to get his cock in and out. 

Then Arthur started making some very unhuman noises as Percy dug deeper and deeper, and Merlin moaned around Gwaine’s cock as he felt the pressure. Leon was so entrance by the view that he didn’t notice when Lance joined him and Elyan, licking at his nipples and toying with Elyan’s hair. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Arthur, whose head was lolling up and down, and his bum, who was being so mercilessly fucked by their broader—and older—friend. 

Arthur cried out Merlin’s name, then, and came all over him, as Gwaine fucked his face and murmured his name as well. Leon kept looking at Arthur, though, at the way his whole body relaxed and looked so utterly _fucked_ , Percy still thrusting. 

He came all over Elyan, who didn’t mind swallowing it all, and groaned.

Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.

 

10.

 

They'd shifted around each other for months trying to get a rise out of one another. Their interactions faded from hostile words to grudging respect before they finally shifted into a fond tease that left him aching for the human's presence.

His last interaction with his older self had left him with more questions than answers. All he knew was that he and this man were apparently destined for great things. He didn't like the lack of emotional control the human brought out in him.  
\--

Their hands brushed accidentally as he was handed a tricorder and pain flooded his body. Rapid flashes of memories that were not his filled his vision. He heard himself scream an unfamiliar name as he passed out from the agony.

He awoke in the medical bay the bright lights making him wince in pain.

"Who's Arthur?" said a voice to the left.

He glanced over in confusion and everything suddenly clicked into place.

"You are Arthur," he said to Jim, "and evidently, I am Merlin," Spock said. He grimaced from the pain.

"Like the old Earth legend? Damn, Spock. How hard did you hit your head when you fell?" Jim replied.

"Not hard enough or I would have forgotten all of this. Look, I do not understand exactly why it happened now but when we brushed hands I was suddenly confronted with all these memories of lives past lived. Jim, we have been together for several millennia. Never with our original names but we have always been friends." Spock explained slowly.

"That's insane, Spock. I'm calling Bones, we need to get you checked for cerebral trauma," Jim said.

"No. Wait." Spock commanded and grabbed Jim's sleeve to keep him in place. "If you allow me to meld my mind to yours, I can show you."

Jim looked uncertain for several moments before he inclined his head slightly in permission. Spock placed his fingers along Jim's temple and allowed him to see what Spock had. He was careful to not overwhelm the human, but Jim's hand came up to cup Spock's own face and the damn was broken. Suddenly all he could think of were all the passionate embraces they had once shared and he projected them into Jim's mind in rapid succession.

Spock tried to close the connection but Jim passed out before he managed it.

"What happened to him, you hobgoblin?" Dr McCoy shouted as he rushed over to Jim.

"He will be fine. His mind is simply a little overexerted. I'll be going to my quarters now. Send Jim along when he wakes up," Spock said. He had to focus to keep from running out of the room and his face from showing his emotions.  
\--  
The computer alerted him that Jim was outside and Spock took a moment to compose himself before he opened the door.

"So, I’m your soulmate and you can't even be bothered to wait near my bed for me to wake up?" Jim teased.

"I did not think I would be welcome after I let you get so overloaded," he replied.

"Bullshit," Jim cursed. He grabbed Spock's shoulders and pushed him against the wall and clashed their lips together.

Spock nearly had the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. None of this was logical. He relaxed into the hold instead and parted his lips to allow the tongue pushing against them entrance. They stood there like hormonal teenagers for several minutes before Jim pulled himself away.

"Stupid Vulcan," Jim said. Spock could not retort to the jibe because Jim's hands were suddenly against his own and their fingers were stroking together in a way that made Spock's thoughts fuzzy and full of lust.

Jim dropped to his knees and sucked the fingers of one hand into his mouth. He continued caressing the other and Spock did not whimper. He gasped as the sensations dazed him and his entire body tensed in pleasure.

When he came back to himself, Jim was standing next to him with their hands still firmly clasped together.

"Let's see what else your hands can do, Magic Man," Jim grinned.

"I am not going to start calling you my king," Spock stated before Jim got any other ideas.

"Oh, we'll see," Jim said and distracted him with another kiss.

 

11.

 

Arthur has stopped pacing, and is sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, next to the table that has directions for how to use the wi-fi on it.

They look like a pair of teenagers more than anything, both flushed and with eyes sparkling. Merlin is terribly pretty, he can admit that as a straight man, and he can see why Gwen likes him. He emanates a kind of humble confidence, his hand on Gwen's breast as if it belongs there. Arthur wonders why on earth Merlin would want to seduce other men's wives, if it's just for fun or a kink of some kind. Arthur hates himself more for the fact that he couldn't just have a threesome like a normal person, that it's having this rubbed in his face that gets him off. 

"Take your clothes off," Arthur says hoarsely. "Both of you. Leave your underwear on."

He watches as Merlin kisses Gwen's neck. He tells Merlin that she likes her collarbones sucked on. Gwen grins at him over his dark head, and he smiles back, feeling good. He presses his hand against his needy cock, smearing precum against his skin, standing over them.

Merlin circles Gwen's nipples and pinches before Arthur can tell him that no, Gwen doesn't like it so rough, but she moans and bucks her hips, and Arthur feels his face heat. What if Merlin is better than him? If Gwen prefers him? Merlin moves his leg between Gwen's, letting her ride against his hip, and Arthur fumbles his trousers open, his cock slotting into his hand.

Suddenly Gwen rolls them, pushing up to sit atop Merlin's hips, grinding determinedly against him. Her breath is hitching in that familiar cadence that Arthur knows means that Gwen is close to orgasm.

"Yeah, that's it," Merlin grunts, his eyes fixed on Gwen's face. His hands grip her bottom and a small part of Arthur wants to punch him but mostly, desperately, he wants to see him fucking her.

Gwen comes with a yelp, and Merlin pulls her down for a kiss.

"Gwen," Arthur says, when he can't stand it any more. Gwen looks up slowly, dazed, her face soft and satisfied. Merlin's face has a desperate edge that matches Arthur's own, and Arthur looks him in the eye as he says - 

"Fuck him." His heart is pounding with something like dread and euphoria. "Fuck him now."

Merlin is the one with the presence of mind to retrieve condoms and lube from the bedside table. Gwen gets up and embraces Arthur without warning, and he melts into her, telling her how beautiful she is, how much he worships her. They are both breathing a little easier, when she releases him and they turn in unison to see Merlin skinning out of his briefs, freeing his enormous, veined cock.

"Oh my God," Gwen says involuntarily, "I thought - I mean, I felt it but I didn't think it was really THAT big."

Just like that Arthur's head is ringing and he is back in that place, that shame building in his stomach, and goosebumps breaking out on his skin. He can't help but compare them, can't help but feel both horrified and turned on by it, and he really can't wait to see that cock going into Gwen's cunt.

Merlin looks both pleased and embarrassed, pumping himself in a blatant display and Gwen crawls up the bed, sinuous, and licks his shaft, making Merlin gasp. Arthur reaches out and pulls down her panties. He lets his fingers play in her wetness as he watches Gwen work her magic on Merlin's cock.

It's a blur from there, Gwen sliding onto Merlin's condom-sheathed cock and riding him while Arthur rubs himself against her, touches them both, his hands sliding down to feel the place where they're connected.

"Yes, please Arthur," Gwen cries, as Arthur's hand slides over her clitoris and he plays with her until she shudders, spasming, the wet obscene sound of Merlin pushing into her. Arthur slicks his fingers in her fluids and pushes into her arse, the pulsing heat and tightness a thin barrier between his hand and the rampant wild flesh of Merlin's cock. He hooks his chin over Gwen's shoulder, watching Merlin.

"Gwen," Merlin moans and speeds up, "Arthur."

Arthur ejaculates in crease of Gwen's thigh, their cries mingling in his ears, his cock rubbing against her labia and his testicles, wanting to smear himself all over them both.

 

12.

 

Arthur booked them into the hotel as Mr. Harding and Mr. Willing, which is really just the tackiest choice to date, but Arthur seemed outlandishly proud about the whole thing. So Merlin only teased him about it a little. He'd made a point of calling Arthur Mr. Harding in a mocking tone as they pulled the masks over their eyes, but that had only backfired, truth be told. 

”Are you insinuating that you're Willing?” Arthur said, eyed glinting. 

And he was, of course. He always is. Merlin is the one who spreads himself put in front of the camera, fucking himself on his own fingers until he's slick and panting, knowing that people are watching him ready himself for Arthur's cock. 

He likes preparing himself, slowly pumping his fingers in and out as he studies Arthur, looking at his broad chest and the hand wrapped tight on his thick cock. He knows that people are watching, wishing it was them being stretched by it, fantasising about Arthur holding them down and fucking them. 

Sometimes he reads their emails out loud to Arthur until they're so far gone they just rut against each other, coming in a slippery mess between them.  
Merlin looks at the camera settled on the stand by the hotel bed, parting his legs wider. He's on display, completely, and the familiar rush of lust makes his dick twitch against his stomach. 

There's a certain frame of mind they both enter into when they do this. It's not like when they have sex in private, where they whisper and touch and laugh, fucking lazily or hurriedly depending on he mood. This is always so intense and there's little room for the private little things. 

Merlin moves down from the bed, careful not to slip out of the camera frame as he slips to his knees in front of Arthur, nuzzling against his hard cock with a content little hum. Arthur's fingers tangle in his hair with the telltale roughness. This is a show as much as it is for them alone . 

Taking Arthur into his mouth, Merlin opens his lips wide, letting Arthur push him down with a hand cradled at the back of his head. He breathes deeply, taking as much of Arthur as he can, knowing exactly how it looks when his lips are stretched wide around Arthur's cock. 

He keeps his hands on his own thighs, relaxing his jaw as Arthur starts to fuck his mouth, cock dragging over Merlin's tongue in steady strokes. Merlin can feel their eyes on him, knowing that they're watching his lips being used until they're red and swollen. 

They wear masks that cover half their face, they never stream anything from either of their flats, but there's still a risk. It wouldn't be impossible for someone to recognise Merlin's lips or the general shape of them. 

But that thought has always made it more intense. 

Arthur's eyes are hooded behind the mask as they watch him, his mouth slack as he seems entirely blissed out by watching his dick disappear into Merlin's mouth. 

The fucking is fast and rough. Merlin doesn't bother holding back his increasingly loud moans as Arthur nearly folds him in half, fucking him open and raw. He knows his hole is on display from behind as it takes the thickness of Arthur, clutching him in and clinging to him. 

”Couple hundred tonight,” Arthur mutters into his neck, sweat from his forehead damp on Merlin's skin. 

Merlin arches up at that, pushing into Arthur's rhythm until they both shout from how fucking perfect it feels. 

”They all want to fuck you. Fuck, they all love the way you look fucked out and claimed.” 

His mind going completely blank, Merlin goes rigid and spills himself between them, some of the come hitting his chin. 

\---  
They read emails the next Saturday and Merlin fucks Arthur over the back of the couch until he sobs. 

 

13.

 

_Stand (so close to me)_

Gwen knows she should have seen this coming. She _has_ seen it coming, has seen it all year, and maybe she should care more about the consequences but...

But Morgana is all soft curves and sharp angles in her arms. But Gwen, when it comes down to it, has never been able to deny herself for long. But if there were any lines left to cross, in truth she razed them to the ground months ago. 

She's not reckless about it—the doors to her classroom are shut, the windows darkened with the thoughts she holds firm in the back corner of her mind—but she's drowning nonetheless, swept away in the fury of Morgana's kisses. She kisses back, buries her hands in the thickness of Morgana's hair and pulls her close while Morgana caresses her, tentacles stroking down her shoulders and her spine, each touch a promise.

“We shouldn't—” she whispers, but Morgana only tightens her hold. 

“This is all I've wanted all year,” Morgana whispers, lips brushing the shell of Gwen's ear. “All I've wanted _every_ year, sitting in your classroom, listening to you go on about ethics and telekinesis, wondering with every lecture what else you might do with your mouth—”

“Jesus,” Gwen says, faintly. Morgana smiles slow. She has one hand cupped over the side of Gwen's neck, the other laid over Gwen's breastbone. Two tentacles twist delicately around Gwen's wrists, another coming up to brush stray hair back from her face; Gwen can't help but reach out for them, running her fingers up to where they meet and fuse just under Morgana's arms. They're softer than skin, pale enough that Gwen can trace the veins in them threading through the muscles. Morgana wraps one around her waist, pulling at her wrists to draw her close. 

“Please,” Morgana murmurs, and Gwen swallows, shuts her eyes. She nods. 

“I've wanted to see you,” Morgana says, her words muffled now against the skin of Gwen's neck. She runs her teeth along Gwen's collarbone, and Gwen tips her head back, shrugging her shoulders out of her cardigan as Morgana draws it off. “Wanted so badly to lay you out on your desk, Professor—” Gwen can't help the guttural noise she makes at that. God, she knows she should stop this, knows it isn't right for her pulse to thrum when Morgana calls her that, but Morgana has a hand under her shirt now, fingers pressing up beneath her bra.

She's moving back now, Morgana steering until Gwen stumbles, falling back against the wall. “Want to make you scream,” Morgana whispers, and Gwen kisses her again. Gwen's shirt is open, and Morgana is everywhere, thumbs working carefully over Gwen's nipples while she strokes her tentacles up under Gwen's skirt, teasing along her inner thighs. 

Gwen curses when Morgana brushes against her panties, and Morgana hisses through her teeth. 

“Can I? Please, Professor—”

There's an uncertainty in her voice which undoes Gwen completely. She gives in.

Morgana isn't shy, curling the tapered end of a tentacle around the scalloped edge of Gwen's underwear. Another teases at her navel, and Gwen shudders at the touch, biting her lip as Morgana's tiny strokes grow closer to the wet between Gwen's legs, tickling her pubic hair before she runs one smooth tip over Gwen's clitoris.

Gwen gasps, he knees buckling before she digs her fingers hard into Morgana's shoulders, fighting to stay upright. “Fuck.”

Morgana doesn't stop moving, all four tentacles moving over Gwen's body, two wrapped warm and tight around her arms. The tentacle between her legs pushes forward infinitesimally, and Gwen gasps again. “Just ask,” Morgana whispers. “Please, all you have to—”

Gwen clenches her fingers more tightly, the cloth of Morgana's blazer wrinkling in her grip. She brings a knee up, hooking her leg over Morgana's hip, heedless of the way her skirt rides up. “Going to make me beg? Oh, fuck.”

The tentacle slips inside her easily, but Morgana doesn't push her advantage; she lingers, teasing at the entrance, pushing one hand down to rub a finger against the slippery skin. 

“Fuck, Morgana, please—”

“Yes,” Morgana hisses, and pushes in with one smooth motion, twisting the tentacle until Gwen curses again, choked. “Dreamed about this—”

“More,” Gwen manages. “I need—”

The tentacle twists again, all muscle and hot skin, and all of Gwen's insides twist with it. She's lost.

 

14.

 

Arthur felt nimble fingers tracing softly over his lower stomach. Merlin’s head was tucked beneath his chin, their legs tangled as they lay comfortably on the settee and Arthur, as per their night rituals would read aloud the papers.

They were both silent. Both watching Merlin’s fingers trace the black ink embedded on his skin, and Arthur felt delicious tingles running up his spine. He always does whenever Merlin does that. And in return, Arthur drew lazy circles on Merlin’s bare shoulder, the papers already forgotten, and they just lie there in silence, touching each other.

There was something thrilling about seeing the ink on Arthur’s skin. How Arthur, well brought up, all proper and posh, fancy flat and cars, clean and pristine, well educated, and then you get him naked and there’s that bloody tattoo on his stomach. And it drives Merlin mad how it just contrasts with who Arthur really is, and yet it defines him too. And it’s just really, really hot. 

Also it’s so cliché for a Pendragon to get a dragon tattooed on his body. Merlin remembers Morgana’s matching one on her lower back. Not that he was watching, but Morgana was wearing really scantily that night at the club and Merlin just happened to catch a glimpse of it.

Merlin smiled as he felt the rumble of Arthur’s chest, humming softly, loving his touches, and planted a chaste kiss there, over his heart. 

“Getting all soft now, are we?” Arthur teased. His fingers now tangled in the mess of Merlin’s hair, massaging the scalp, guiding him towards a wet open-mouthed kiss. 

When they parted, Merlin grinned widely and scrambled up to straddle Arthur, pinning his arms back onto the settee beneath them, his eyes playful. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you how soft I can be.”

Arthur’s chuckle shook their bodies slightly as Merlin started lathering kisses all over his face, teasing him with exaggerated wet sounds. The chuckle turned into approving hums when Merlin started going lower, nipping at soft skins; neck, earlobe, collarbone.

Arthur let out a gasp, followed by a short breathy laugh when he felt teeth nipping playfully at his chest; Merlin likes to fondle him, and Arthur lets him have his way because he isn’t really one to complain. He gave a full-body shudder when he felt a wet tongue licking at his nipple, and moaned when he felt Merlin’s hot mouth around it, sucking rather enthusiastically.

It felt really good. Arthur had his eyes closed; his body lax as he let Merlin touch him and kiss him, but then he yelped when lips and tongue were replaced by sharp teeth clamping over his sensitive buds.

“Ow!” He swatted Merlin’s head lightly, glaring when Merlin only grinned at him, not at all sorry.

Merlin leaned up and clamped their mouths together, their kisses suddenly more desperate; it was all tongues and teeth, it was bloody brilliant. Arthur grunted in protest when Merlin pulled away again, going down back on the same path, his jaw, his neck, down to his chest. Only, this time Merlin skipped pass his nipples and started kissing lower, to his stomach; dipping his tongue briefly at Arthur’s navel, revelling in the soft moans he elicited. 

With the tip of his tongue, Merlin traced the tattoo. Starting from the pointed tail curling slightly around the navel, up along the length of it, the detailed scales on the body, to the amazing fire breath that stopped right above Arthur’s hipbone. Arthur thrust his hips in the air in a knee-jerk reflex, needing friction but not exactly desperate for it; content with the way Merlin’s taking care of him. Both hands on Arthur’s hips, to keep him from moving, Merlin went back to marvelling the dragon, sucking everywhere, like he couldn’t get enough. 

Merlin is obsessed with that tattoo; mainly because it’s a piece of art and it looks really good on Arthur, and also because he loves the sounds Arthur makes whenever he gives extra attention to it, pointedly ignoring the obvious tent of their trousers around the crotch area. And also because it would always lead to awesome sex and extremely gratifying orgasms; it’s Arthur’s way of paying back for all the sexual frustration. Merlin isn’t exactly complaining. It’s a win-win situation.

 

15.

 

“Is the ink ready Gaius?” Arthur asked, after completing a full rotation around the young man kneeling on the stone floor, eyes downcast, a result of years of training.

“Yes sire, all I need is a bit of your blood, and then we can start the ritual. The blood in the ink will bind him, and his magic, to you.”

“Blood?” Arthur eye's never left the young man kneeling at his feet.

“Well, any body fluid would do. Many use a few drops of blood,” Gaius explained picking up a small bowl and needle from the table. “I'll just make a small pin prick-“

“That won’t be necessary Gaius.” Arthur grabbed the chin of the young man, tilting his head, forcing eye contact “Merlin, right? Did your elders tell you why I choose you, out of the entire group of eligible warlocks?” The barest of nods was felt by Arthur's fingers. “Why?”

“You want more than a warlock bound to you, for their magic. You want ...everything.”

“I was told you are loyal, and have a willingness to please. I think it's time to try out your need to satisfy.”

Merlin's hands were slow and a little shaky, but he didn't hesitate in opening the fastening to Arthur's breaches, pulling out his soft cock. Merlin took the wordless instruction, like a young man facing his first battle, nervous but determined at the same time.

Arthur felt the warning breath of heated air, before the hot moist tongue, ran up the side of his cock. Arthur steadied his reactions; it would not do good losing control when establishing his dominance over his new pet. 

Merlin's movements were sloppy and unskilled. His actions were all over the spectrum; too hard, too soft, not enough pressure, too wet. Arthur could have gotten better service from a toothless crone, but the feel of complete power over a person with such magical talents as Merlin, was an aphrodisiac in itself, knowing that his new pet was inexperienced, and could be molded however Arthur saw fit, was an extra treat.

Holding Merlin's head in his hands, Arthur stilled Merlin’s moments, “Open wide and please your king.”

Arthur thrust in quick jabbing motions, pushing Merlin's gag reflects to the limit. With some training Merlin would be able to take him deeper. It was one of the many things Merlin will learn in Arthur's bed. But for now the feeling of Merlin’s throat tightening around the head of his cock, was enough to push Arthur's control over the edge. 

“Gaius, bring the bowl,” Arthur command sliding his cock out of Merlin's mouth, spunk dribbling over his lips. 

Scoping any excess into the bowl, Gaius walked back to his work station, adding the herbal ink, stirring the mixture. “Where would you like me to place your mark, sire?”

“Right here,” Arthur turned Merlin's wrist over, exposing the soft underside. Merlin's skin was so pale that the black ink from the tattoo would stand out for anyone to see, even across a room. 

“Hold his arm sire,” Gaius instructed, pulling the ink soaked thread out of the bowl, wrapping it around the needle.

Watching Gaius work with careful precision, Arthur mused over the idea of forbidding Merlin from wearing anything that would cover his wrist. He wanted his ownership known.

 

16.

 

“But can’t you just give me _one_ bath, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur said, pout in full-force.

“Arthur, I just don’t have time-- I have work, I have to clean and cook-- I showed you how to use the shower, use that! It does all the work for you!”

Arthur smirked, taking his clothes off and standing in the middle of the house. “I don’t like the ‘shower’. I’d like a bath. Please.”

Merlin turned away from the stove and startled, dropping his cooking spoon. “What are you-- you can’t just stand around naked like that!’

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” Arthur said with a satisfied smirk, feeling his erection grow as Merlin’s eyes trailed downwards. 

“Arthur, go take a shower yourself, do not make me--”

“Make you _what_ , Merlin?” Arthur asked with a challenging eyebrow-raise. “You can’t do anything to me.”

He really shouldn’t have said that.

Merlin was suddenly snapping his fingers, making the oven-thing turn off, stalking over to him, eyes narrowed, shoulders slightly hunched over as though he were targeting his prey. Arthur stood there in awe, arousal and a hint of fear at the golden hue of Merlin’s eyes, swirling around the blue and making for a very sexy look. He was so very glad they had started sleeping together ever since Arthur had been reincarnated. It made life so much better. Not that Gwen hadn’t been very accommodating of course but--it was Merlin. 

“Arthur?” Merlin said, grabbing Arthur’s attention back with a slightly concerned look on his face now. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yes? What?” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and suddenly pounced on Arthur, both of them falling backwards onto the couch with a loud _thump_. 

“You think I can’t do anything to you? You’re very wrong,” Merlin said in a husky tone, sitting up and straddling Arthur’s waist. 

“Well I don’t know about that--” Arthur was interrupted when he felt a tug on his throat as his voice was silenced with Merlin’s magic. He gaped at Merlin, who was now smirking down at him. 

“I can do plenty to you, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin chuckled, eyes flashing gold again. Arthur’s arms were now pinned to his sides, legs magically bound over the arm of the chair. He struggled, eyes widening and tried to yell at Merlin in vain.

“You’re no longer King Arthur, my love,” Merlin grinned, stretching slightly as he took off his shirt and grabbed what looked like a writing utensil from the coffee table. “You’re nothing but mine now.” 

Arthur struggled again at the bonds but noticed he was hard as a rock. It was extremely sexy, being bound by Merlin’s magic. He squirmed under Merlin’s weight but that only made Merlin laugh. 

“You’re so sexy all helpless for me,” Merlin said softly, caressing Arthur’s chest with the marker. “All wide-eyed and bound, craving my every touch. I should have done this sooner.”

He uncapped the top of the marker and smirked at Arthur. “You’ve been walking around like you own the place, but you forget how I. own. you.”

Arthur swallowed thickly as he stared at Merlin, who was... he was bloody gorgeous. Powerful and fae-like, mischievous. He was youthful but his eyes were so wise, golden and could always control Arthur like this, but he only chose to do so now, when Arthur was _liking_ it. He could carve Arthur apart and put him back together and Arthur would follow helplessly, loving every moment of it. 

“You need to be reminded of your place, Pendragon.” Merlin pressed the marker to Arthur’s chest. Arthur squirmed, feeling so awkward and helpless but his cock was twitching, spurting pre-come already. He felt Merlin writing something but he couldn’t make sense of it when he looked down. 

“Perfect,” Merlin smiled widely, getting off Arthur and crawling down, immediately pressing his mouth against Arthur’s cock. Arthur’s hips flew off the couch as Merlin sucked him down, cheeks hollowing. 

It wasn’t until _much_ later, when Arthur was about to get into the shower with Merlin that he saw what Merlin had written in the bathroom mirror. He tilted his head, not understanding it because it was backwards. 

“Merlin, what does it say?” Arthur asked. 

Merlin chuckled and snapped his fingers, the mirror displaying in reverse now. Arthur gasped when he saw the words on his chest, cock hardening once more. _Merlin’s whore._

 

17.

 

When Merlin said he would do anything for Arthur, he didn’t know at the time that it would come to this. Hot, sweaty, and panting something awful, he must have looked a mess. 

Not that Merlin himself could see a damn thing with a blindfold on. 

It was that blindfold that held the scene together. It kept Merlin from thinking too hard about how there were really a lot of people in the room right now; people kissing, fondling each other, or just staring outright at himself and Arthur fucking on the center stage of the sex club. Merlin could hear them; soft shuffles and moans of other couples (or threesomes, or moresomes) engaging in their own sexual exploits. Brow furrowing, Merlin thought he could hear the telltale ‘fap, fap’ of an appreciative audience member, and-

“Pay attention to me.” Arthur’s voice was low but hard, startling Merlin a little. “They’re not important,” he said, thrusting into Merlin with what felt like possession “I’m showing them how much I own you.” 

Pleasure spiked through Merlin as Arthur ran a hand down his spine. Merlin gripped the desk he was splayed over a little tighter, feeling the businesses-like tie Arthur was wearing follow the path his hand had taken. It was true that he had been nervous when Arthur had first suggested they do a scene for the sex club they belonged to, but that had evaporated once Merlin had been told point-blank that it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. 

“You’re wandering again” Arthur said. Merlin felt himself clench around Arthur involuntarily, anticipating punishment. 

“It won’t happen again, sir,” Merlin felt himself whisper. Nevertheless, Arthur’s hand came hard down on his backside, ringing out as a moan from amongst the watching crowd. 

“See that it doesn’t.” Arthur replied. 

Merlin arched his back as Arthur increased the tempo. The suits they were wearing were soaked with sweat, sticking to one another as Merlin began to thrust back against Arthur in time. It wasn’t long until Merlin had forgotten the crowd completely; it was just him and Arthur, his prudish boss giving in to his base urges and fulfilling his desires, taking Merlin to the nearest office to fuck over the nearest desk. Merlin smiled, pleasure rising in him like the morning sun. He was Arthur’s, completely, and everyone in the club watching knew it. No one else had ever commanded Merlin to do something like this, and nobody else ever would. 

“Arthur,” Merlin groaned “Arthur, I’m-”

rather than finishing his sentence, Merlin came, arching his back like a cat. Arthur said nothing, but Merlin felt him tense and his thrusts stutter. The moans of the people around them grew louder, but Merlin could still hear Arthur’s breath, harsh with effort as they came together. Groaning again as Arthur pulled out, Merlin sighed, content. He felt the crowd relax around the stage. 

CRACK. Merlin jumped in time with the audience as Arthur stabbed a letter opener onto the desk drawer. 

“Remember _this_ next time you come into my office,” he said, dragging Merlin’s lax body up to standing “or next time I’ll remember that a tie makes a decent gag for your noisy mouth.”

Merlin smiled. He could make no promises, but when it came to Arthur, he would always try his best. 

 

18.

 

Merlin did hot kinky sex with a lot of people and here's 750 words about it. 

“Wait, wait,” Merlin says, hands skidding down the sweat-slick skin of Arthur's side. 

“What,” Arthur grinds out, looking over his shoulder. His fringe is plastered to his forehead and his face is flushed. Gwaine grunts somewhere behind Arthur, and Merlin can see his thighs tremble where Arthur's straddling them.

“I just – are you sure, Arthur?”

“Yes, just get on with it, will you?” Arthur demands. Merlin leans forward and kisses him. There's no hesitation in Arthur at all, and the rightness of it settles in the pit of Merlin's stomach.

“Ok, ok,” Merlin says, searching through the creases in the sheets for the lube. He finds it and bends Arthur forward, and he sees Gwaine's hands cup Arthur's neck. 

He slicks his fingers then pushes them against where Gwaine's cock is inside Arthur's body. He breaks out into a sweat, heart suddenly rabbiting at the thought of what he was about to do. He knew he and Gwaine weren't well endowed but he still wasn't sure how they were going to fit and fuck and he has to tug at his balls hard to pulls himself back from the edge. 

Merlin manages to force a finger inside. It's hot, so hot and _tight_. Arthur makes a high tight noise, and Merlin looks up. Arthur's face is buried in Gwaine's shoulder and Gwaine is panting, looking at Merlin with wide eyes. 

“Don't stop,” Gwaine says. Arthur's back heaves with the deep breaths he's taking. 

Merlin manages two fingers, and Arthur's relaxing around him. Merlin's shaking, blown away by what Arthur's prepared to give him and Gwaine. 

“Just do it, Merlin, please.” Arthur's voice is muffled by Gwaine's skin, but the message is clear enough. Merlin pulls his fingers out and slicks up his cock with what is probably too much lube but Merlin doesn't care. 

He shifts so he's kneeling between Gwaine's legs properly, and lines his cock up, resting against Gwaine's. He slides forward. 

The ring of muscle is almost painful against the head of Merlin's cock, but he keeps up a steady forward pressure until it just gives, all at once. 

Arthur makes a broken sound and Gwaine is swearing at the ceiling, hands scrabbling against the bedsheets. 

Merlin can't think. He's overwhelmed by everything – the tight heat of being inside Arthur, the feel of Gwaine's hardness against his, even the feel of Arthur's sweaty back against his chest is contributing to Merlin's growing pleasure. Merlin just breathes for a moment

So obviously, Gwaine moves before Merlin has a chance to get a hold of himself. The friction is unbearable and Arthur is shouting and Merlin comes so hard he blacks out for a moment. 

Merlin opens his eyes as Arthur forces himself into a sitting position.

“Out, out,” he's hissing, and Merlin blinks heavily, slowly pulling out. He groans at the last bit of friction against his oversensitive cock. 

He and Gwaine help Arthur up and down onto the bed. Merlin can see the evidence of Arthur's orgasm on his chest, and Merlin is upset he missed it. 

Merlin lies down next the other side of Arthur and they all pant up at the ceiling for a moment. 

“Bagsy next turn,” Gwaine croaks, making Merlin break out in hysterical laughter.

 

19.

 

Merlin waited.

It didn't take long; Arthur sneaked into the guest chamber just an hour after the sun had set. His gait was awkward, but Merlin closed his eyes and imagined Arthur striding towards him with full confidence. When he opened them again, Arthur stood before him, his unlaced breeches at eye level. Merlin tilted his head up.

"It's funny," Arthur said, and even his voice sounded different. "Everybody keeps warning me to treat you right. You should have heard Gwaine this morning at training. I think he caught the way I looked at you."

Merlin swallowed and reached out, then hesitated. "What about--"

"Asleep. Don't worry, I took precautions. How often have we done this now?"

The last of Merlin's resistance crumbled, and he brought his hands to rest on Arthur's hips. He licked his lips and leaned forward, just to breathe in Arthur's scent, but he pulled away when it wasn't quite right. 

It didn't matter. For tonight, he had Arthur. He groaned when Arthur gripped his hair and pushed his face forward. 

"If I ordered you to suck me now, would you?"

Merlin almost laughed. "I would do anything for you right now." He let his magic undo the laces on Arthur's breeches until they hung loose enough to pull down. Under other circumstances, that would be dangerous, but it was dark enough, and his hands were close enough that it could be explained away.

He didn't wait for an order. He opened his mouth and tentatively licked Arthur's cock, reveled in that first hint of taste spreading across his tongue. It tasted like Arthur, because this was the only way he'd ever had Arthur. He wouldn't taste the same after training, he wouldn't taste the same after a bath. But just on these nights, Merlin could have him.

Merlin blew on the wet spot, slowly opened his mouth to take Arthur in. He closed his eyes and groaned as he felt Arthur begin to fill.

"I wish I could make you suck my cock every night." Arthur's voice was raspy now, and maybe not so different than it would have been under other circumstances.

It wasn't so hard to ignore what Arthur was saying. The way Arthur thrust his hips and the way he gripped Merlin's hair -- and oh, those fingers running over his scalp were sending shivers down Merlin's spine -- those were almost enough to make it seem _real_.

"Love the way you look. Keep sucking, em--" Arthur let out a shaky breath, " _Mer_ lin."

Oh. Merlin closed his eyes and wished Arthur would say his name like that in public, in front of the knights and in front of Gwen. He wanted Arthur to publicly claim him, to show the entire world how completely owned Merlin was.

He looked up, saw Arthur's gold-tinted eyes. That ruined everything. He nearly choked, pulled away just as Arthur came, and his seed splattered all over Merlin's face. He couldn't stop himself from sticking his tongue out and licking it, even while the illusion shattered and Arthur's body _shifted_ \-- his blonde hair turned black, his skin lightened, and his muscles became less pronounced.

Mordred's mouth turned up slightly at the lips -- not really a smile, not with the way his eyes stayed flat. "Maybe if you told him--"

No. Merlin shook his head. "He's happy with Gwen. I have no place there."

The bed creaked as Mordred sat down next to him. He rubbed a thumb against the seed stuck to Merlin's cheek. "You know I'd do anything for you, Emrys."

Merlin flinched, shrugged Mordred's hand away. The gesture made Mordred frown, but he didn't attempt to touch Merlin again.

"Leave," Merlin commanded, and though he had no true authority Mordred immediately made to go.

He stopped short of the door. "I'll see you again next week?"

It wasn't enough, would never be enough, but it was the only thing Merlin had. The real Arthur was out of his reach, so he would take an imitation of him instead. "Yes. Just make sure to--"

"I know." Mordred walked out the door.

Merlin was left sitting alone, seed slowly drying on his face and his dick half-hard.

 

20.

 

All day, Merlin feels his tattoo burn. It knows, because Merlin knows, that Arthur won't be home tonight. 

At lunchtime, he goes into the lavatory and pulls the top buttons of his shirt open. He knows he shouldn't, but it's really the least of the things he shouldn't do today. No matter how hard he tries to stop himself, he knows he's going to do them anyway. 

He runs his hand under the warm tap and then runs it over his chest and shoulder where the ink twines around his heart. An immediate shiver runs through him at the touch of the water. The skin under his hand ripples with anger and promise.

By the time he gets home, anticipation has kept him hard for most of the day. He doesn't bother turning on the lights or looking at the day's post. He goes straight upstairs and runs the bath.

At the first splash of water, Merlin gasps as his left shoulder wrenches his back into an arch. He feels the magic rippling under his skin. It wants out.

He forces himself to undo his shirt and trousers methodically, even though his fingers tremble and slip on the buttons. The water is getting higher, but though he didn't choose this, he will be the one in control.

Merlin waits until the water is as hot as he can stand. Heat is a soporific; his companion prefers the chill of its dream sea. As he bends over the steam, the ache in his shoulder settles. Now all he can feel is his cock.

The hot water sloshes around his knees and then slips silken around his arse, his balls, his rigid cock. It comes up to his chest and tickles the bottom of the tattoo. The water ripples and he feels the first full wiggle of the tips of the tentacles. No going back now.

Merlin slides down into the water until he is submerged up to his neck. He closes his eyes so he won't have to watch the ink lifting from his skin and taking solid form. He can feel it anyway, the weight of the body sliding onto his chest as it grows and grows and grows.

"You're like a damn sea monkey," he whispers. 

An arm slithers across his throat and clamps around his jaw to silence him. The rest of the arms writhe around his body, prodding for a grip on his flesh. He bends his knees and braces them against the side of the tub to keep it from turning him face down like it wants. That makes space for two of the growing arms to twine around his legs. More arms wrap around his torso, pinning his arms while the expanding mass of the creature covers him. 

The arms shift, undulate, tasting his skin with dozens of tiny suckers as they grow longer. He inhales as each flicker of suction arouses his skin. This is why Arthur must be away; Merlin can't explain the dozens of red circles that will soon cover the whole of his body. 

He refuses to open his eyes and look at it, but he knows when it's grown as large as it can within the strictures of the tub. It lets out a screech of frustration. The arms tighten around him, suckers digging into his flesh as instinct drives him to thrash in their grip.

"Maybe someday I'll take you to a big pool," Merlin lies with a gasp. "Olympic sized, yeah? Or a lake."

It trills more softly. Suckers clamp onto the tender skin of his inner thighs, wrenching them apart. Then one arm untangles from his legs and probes between them.

The entry is nothing like when Arthur's cock enters him. The tip of it wriggles into his arse, inadvertently teasing his rim so that his hole contracts around it. Then the bulk of the arm pushes in behind it, scraping and stretching him.

Merlin writhes with the discomfort until the arm flattens out inside him. A cluster of suckers attaches to his prostate, and Merlin freezes in the grip of the most exquisite pleasure he's ever known.

After that, he's lost. It can do as it pleases with him. His head lolls to the side, weakened from ecstasy.

Later, it hisses, and he rouses with a sharp breath. The tub level has gotten dangerously low since they flooded the rest of the bathroom in their mating struggle.

With his free foot, Merlin fumbles for the faucet. He nudges the tap toward cold and lets the water run.

 

21.

 

Arthur’s floating in the river when his horse rears up where he left it on shore and makes off with his dry clothes, his sword fastened to its flank.

The beast’s eyes roll white before he’s stood watching its settling dust, and then he’s scrambling through silt and muck for his boots and the long hunting knife he keeps sheathed inside the right one.

His mouth tastes of muddy water as he clutches the blade’s hilt and the laces of his sopping trousers, peers through thinned brush and narrow trees for some animal, praying it’s wolves before bandits.

It’s a boy.

Standing in the road some thirty odd yards away, skinny and barefoot, he turns, and he finds Arthur’s eyes, and somehow, that’s all it takes.

***

“Emrys,” he says later, when Arthur asks his name.

He doesn’t seem like such a boy up close. Perhaps Arthur’s age. A year or two younger at the most.

He spreads a fur on the ground as the sun falls out of sight, and Arthur lies with him upon it because he knows that’s what the boy wants and his mind feels soft and hazy.

***

“Merlin,” the boy says later still, like an afterthought and a correction, dipping his chin down in time with a slow stroke to Arthur’s cock, a slower, slick pump of the two fingers working inside Arthur’s hole. They’ve been snug, tightly stuck for hours and Arthur’s sore, but it’s nice. The ache’s nice. He thinks he’ll die if the boy stops.

“I’ve been told it’s what my mother called me.” The boy prods at a spot inside Arthur that hurts now with how good it feels, that hurts because it’s surely bruised. It makes Arthur’s cock dribble and twitch. Makes him feel like he’s going to piss or come or both.

***

Merlin looks up at Arthur between flat licks to his arsehole and wet, full sucks at his balls, mouth red and swollen, hair stuck up everywhere. “You’re made of magic,” he says, the words punched out of him like he means to say Arthur is god. “I could smell you from -” He rubs his lips and teeth against Arthur’s skin, stupid with it, drunk, licks his hole again.

***

Arthur isn’t sure how long he’s been with Merlin. The sun’s come and gone, he knows, but he wouldn’t be able to answer how many times it’s happened.

***

Merlin never takes his fingers out, He replaces them with his tongue if he does and says he’d like to crawl inside Arthur and live there, that he likes him open and that it makes the magic hotter.

The longest moment he spends away from Arthur’s arse is when he spreads his thighs out on either side of Arthur’s hips and sits on his sticky prick, just sits with all his weight and moves in tight, hard downward circles, working himself off that way.

“I’ll have to let you go back soon, won’t I?” he whispers, sounding so unbearably sad about it Arthur stops breathing.

***

The fat part where Merlin’s thumb is joined to his hand is the part that hurts the most.

Merlin licks around Arthur’s stretched rim, where it feels thin and weakest, and hushes him with soothing murmurs. He keeps making low whining sounds as well, shifting, humping at nothing with each new minuscule push forward. 

Arthur’s sweating so much he can’t even see, propped up on his elbows with his head tilted back, as if that might make it easier to bring in air. It doesn’t.

“Merlin,” he says, shaking his head, pushing down, then drawing up, trying to get away and not at all wanting to, confused and blurred. “I can’t - I -”

“You can.” 

“I’ll split -” Arthur gasps, sure of it, toes curling, legs restless. “I’ll come apart - I’ll -”

And then it goes in. He takes Merlin to the wrist with a wet squelch that’d make him blush under any other circumstances, feels the bulk of Merlin's knuckles against that sweet, bruised spot and comes and comes and watches his cock spit and blurt across his belly.

“Oh fuck,” he says on such a long sigh, still coming, feeling flooded and high, and he goes onto his back in a limp mess. “Oh fuck I’ll take you with me. I’ll take you.”

Merlin opens and closes his hand in Arthur’s arse and lays his head down to watch the skin pull and catch, slide back and forth, used up and pretty.

 

22.

 

It's supposed to be a joke. 

It's supposed to be a lame, "haha remember when I jumped out of your bedroom wardrobe and you cried from fear" but then Arthur forgets to do any jumping. Instead, he stares at Merlin and the tall, blond women kissing and feels all the air leave his lungs. 

It all happens so _fast_. 

He really does mean to move, particularly when it's clear that they're not taking their time—clothes peeled off and soft, moans pitching through the air. He means to leave.

He really does have some intention. 

But he gets caught up in the way Merlin sighs into the kiss. He's so... well, it's strange but he's shockingly submissive. Arthur watches, as Merlin undoubtably surrenders to the women's bruises kisses. Her jaw is sharp, her hips as slim and lean as her flat chest. Her blond hair is cropped and she kisses him like she owns him. Merlin's offers his neck to her, his hands clutching at her back and shoulders until she pushes him down onto the bed and scrapes her teeth down his throat.

He's moaning, high-pitched and a little frantic at whatever she's doing to him but Arthur can't even wrap his mind around it because Merlin's gone all feminine-soft and supple before his eyes. It's so easy now, to reconcile this Merlin with the women Arthur's striped and pleasured—licked inside of them and fucked them until they came around him. 

He doesn't even notice what's happening until Merlin thrashes on the bed, a high-keening noises rippling through his spine and that certainly catches the attention of Arthur (and admittedly, his dick).

It's the unmistakable twist of the lady's wrist that eventually pulls Arthur into the scene. That, and the large purple cock hanging between her legs. 

By the time Arthur's put together the pieces, albeit embarrassingly slowly, she's flexing her hips and driving into Merlin on all fours. Arthur immediately finds himself missing the open expression on Merlin's face, even with him arse up, straining back onto her dick and the sweaty flush of his back laid out. 

"Oh fuck," Merlin says, still high and a bit strangled. He's breathless as she thrusts into him, relatively silent compared to the noise that seems to fall effortless from the soft, flushed 'oh' of his mouth. 

"Harder, god—oh," Merlin moans and she seems to let loose an impressing amount of steady rhythm that Arthur can't help but follow with his own hand across his cock. 

It's hard not to chase his own orgasm with Merlin spread out and wanting, even though it bears keeping in mind considering Merlin is his best friend, a little mouthy and stubborn—so at odds with the man Arthur is jerking off to. He seems so consumed and needy, even the clutch of his fingers against the sheets look effeminate to Arthur. He looks strained and swollen with her cock. Arthur can't stop pressing his hand to his dick and watching how sweaty Merlin gets every time she slides into him. He can see the wet mop of curling strands at the base of his neck—every once in a while, the woman will bend forward and say something Arthur can't hear but he can hear the way Merlin reacts. 

"Oh, fuck—yes, _Arthur_ , god—yes, fuckfuck—"

Arthur feels the shock to the chest but it doesn't matter because she's fucking Merlin like he's a whore, viciously pounding into him and twisting him back onto her hips with a jerk of her hand in his sweaty hair. Arthur's world narrows, watching her grind her hips until she comes with a thrash of hips. She coaxes Merlin there too, until he's crying out. Arthur can't tell if it's his name again but it sounds like it hurts—like it's being dragged out of him and he's so fucking thankful for it. 

Arthur sits as the aftermath of messy, enthusiastic sex happens. Except she doesn't leave as abruptly as they entered. Her kisses tapper off and then she cleans him. It's tender, sweet and Merlin smiles. They have tea, naked, legs folded up beneath them after.

It's such a—fuck, Arthur doesn't even know. But he can't shake it. Merlin smiles twists inside of him until it's all he wants. Viciously, he hates this woman and her ability to keep all these smiles to herself. Before she goes, Merlin thanks her and she winks when he grins bashfully but honest.

The reconciliation between this Merlin and the Merlin Arthur is privy to feels inconceivable. 

 

23.

 

Gwaine was in the stables, checking a gash on his favorite destrier’s foreleg, when Leon walked by and said quietly, “We’re doing Merlin tonight. An hour after sundown. Spread the word.”

Gwaine grinned. “Best news I’ve heard all week.” He hummed to himself as he finished his work.

Arthur only let them party with Merlin once a month or so. Gwaine’s opinion was that the king was a possessive git. Just because he and Merlin had a thing going, didn’t mean that the others shouldn’t have their chance, too. After all, they’d all had some good times with Merlin before Arthur claimed exclusivity. At least for fucking.

Gwaine told Percival, and Percival told Gareth and Galahad, and Galahad told Lance and Bors, and Lance told Elyan, and Elyan told Pellinor and Lucan and Ector, and soon they had enough knights to make a fun night of it.

Merlin always enjoyed what they had planned for him, but they liked to keep an element of surprise, so Lance was assigned to lure Merlin to the stables at the appointed time. 

They drew lots beforehand. One lucky man had a special privilege with Merlin, and one unlucky one had to stand guard. Elyan grinned when he drew the long straw, and Bors whined when he got the short one. No fun for him until the next time.

When Lance entered the stable with Merlin, talking earnestly about a filly that he needed Merlin’s opinion about, the knights all stood up from the hay bales they had been lounging on and advanced on Merlin. 

Merlin rolled his eyes and protested half-heartedly. “Again? Didn’t we just do this? Can’t you tossers jerk off in your own beds like normal people? ” But he couldn’t hide his pleased expression.

Leon said sternly, “This is by order of the King.”

Merlin rolled his eyes again, and said, “Yeah, yeah, morale of the troops and all that.” But then he was too busy being manhandled for any more sassy answers.

They formed a circle around him and picked him up bodily, laying him flat on a bench in the center of the tack room. Eager hands pulled off his boots and then stripped him of every inch of clothing, and then there was a flurry of activity.

Someone forced his mouth open to accept the small cloth ball that would gag him, and it was tied around his head with a special leather bridle Arthur had designed himself. They knew Merlin wouldn’t try to get away, but it was more fun for them when he was tied up, so they pulled his arms over his head and bound his wrists with lengths of silk. They’d used rope once, but it had left marks and Arthur had been furious.  
He didn’t want anyone marking Merlin but him.

When Merlin was arranged to their satisfaction, they started running their hands all over him, caressing his arms and legs and the inside of his thighs until his cock was stiff and purple.

Then Elyan advanced with a pot of scented unguent and the smooth wooden dildo that fit Merlin perfectly, which they all knew meant it was just a little too big. They all stepped back and began undoing their breeches as Elyan knelt by the foot of the bench. Merlin spread his legs and Elyan thumbed Merlin’s hole, rubbing the ointment in and around it. The knights watched eagerly, already stroking themselves, as 

Elyan smeared some of the grease around the tip of the dildo and breached Merlin, tentatively at first, then teasing him with a few short thrusts before ramming it home. 

The widening of Merlin’s eyes as he took the dildo was the signal to them to begin wanking in earnest. Merlin squirmed on the bench, unable to talk, his arse filled but no one fucking him, his prick hard to the point of discomfort. He glared at them, and they alternately laughed at him and praised him, saying, “Move for us, Merlin. C’mon,” or “So pretty like that, arse and mouth full.”

Gwaine came first, stepping close and spurting all over Merlin’s belly. The others followed, until Merlin was dripping with sticky whiteness.

No one came on Merlin’s face, though.

Until Arthur stepped out of the shadows, prick in hand, and painted Merlin’s face with his come. And then he undid the gag and used his palm to smear the wetness across Merlin’s lips, his big warm hand a caress.

 

24.

 

Arthur shuts the door to Merlin's room behind him and fumbles Merlin's trousers open as quickly as he can. He tries to be patient and he tries to go slow, but this might be his only chance and Merlin can't know that this is what Arthur's done in the hour they spend apart. He's left Merlin to play the part of prince in the Council chambers, awkward and furious inside Arthur's body, blaming magic and, inexplicably, himself for what's happened. 

He might've lasted, Arthur thinks, if he only had to endure his senses stretching through Merlin's body. If he only had to see and feel the world the way Merlin does for one day, he would've been fine. The problem, Arthur knows as he fingers the length of Merlin's cock and feels it grow hard against the palm of his hand, is that all he can feel is Merlin. The taste of his sweat and the sight of his pale skin and the scent of his body. 

And that--god, Arthur takes in a breath and holds it until he starts to feel dizzy--that might the worst, the strange and familiar scent of warm skin and sweat, sunshine and dry grass, the thick musk of arousal. Arthur knows this scent, knows it as well as his own body, knows it in the way he does all the other small, guilty secrets that he keeps. 

But he's never known Merlin like this, inside out and with a desperation that makes him want to pull off Merlin's clothes, to rip them off if he has to with a promise to replace them. And he would--he'd replace them ten times over to be able to skim his hands over Merlin's chest and stomach, to tease him until he shuddered with need, to do it all with his own hands. 

Arthur thumbs the end of Merlin's cock and smiles at way Merlin's body reacts: a shiver of happiness, then anticipation. He likes this, he likes being teased and made to wait for the next touch, and he imagines that Merlin must like it, too. Maybe Merlin likes to start with slow, flitting touches before fisting his own cock, his slim body taut and pale on his narrow bed. Maybe his body remembers what he likes, and the way Arthur touches him and gets him hard play out those memories. 

There's something else, though, something that sparks beneath Merlin's skin and pricks at the back of Arthur's mind. Something bright and quick that Arthur can't quite grasp but that he knows is inseparable from Merlin's very being. It tickles at the edge of Arthur's senses, reminding him of the glint of Merlin's eyes, of the smile that quirks the corner of lips at the most inappropriately absurd moments, of the brush of his slim fingers over Arthur's armor, over his clothes, over his skin. 

God. Fuck. Arthur tightens Merlin's fingers around Merlin's cock, tugging roughly when he can't keep his hand steady. No, Merlin's hand, he thinks, and the thought sends a thousand tiny shivers through him until he's scrabbling at the door behind him with the other hand to try and stay upright. He come with a sudden, muffled cry before he's ready, unable to stop the wash of pleasure and relief. 

Arthur sinks to the floor, heart beating almost painfully hard, breath rasping. For a moment, he feels warmth and light; he even forgets who is, forgets his guilt and his need, loses himself in that small space that is neither Merlin not himself.

The outside door slams and startles Arthur. Before he can collect himself, he hears his own voice, but he can tell from the tone and cadence that it's really Merlin who's talking. He doesn't have to listen long to realize what it is that he feels beneath Merlin's skin, what he feels warming his own senses.

It seems Merlin has a secret, too.

 

25.

 

He’s alone in the waiting room. It’s decorated in soothing colours, even the chairs are surprisingly comfortable. He might be able to relax if he wasn’t just a few moments away from his check-up.

“Mr. Pendragon?” asks the man who just opened the door to the surgery.

Arthur nods.

“My name is Merlin Emrys and I’ll be taking care of you today. If you could follow me…”

Arthur is ushered to a fairly large room that’s furnished in a similar way as the waiting room.

“You can call me Merlin,” the doctor says. “Can I call you Arthur or are you more comfortable with Mr. Pendragon?”

“Arthur is fine.”

He’s nervous.

“Nothing to worry about,” Merlin says as if sensing Arthur’s unease. “It will certainly be more pleasant than going to the dentist. 

“That’s not really reassuring,” Arthur grumbles, earning himself a chuckle.

“I don’t want to seem too forward, but take your clothes off, please.”

 

~x~

 

“Are you comfortable? It will take a while.”

Arthur tries to relax on the examination chair, but his heart is still hammering inside his chest a he feels a bit like throwing up.

“Did you drink the water as you were instructed to?”

“Yes.”

“I know it might not seem related to your problem, but as I will be checking your bladder, I’d like to check your prostate too.”

 

~x~

 

“That’s it, just breathe through it,” Merlin says, pressing his finger further in. “It’s not supposed to hurt, so tell me if it does, okay?”

Arthur closes his eyes as Merlin’s finger brushes over his prostate repeatedly. His cheeks go red as he feels his cock stiffening.

“Absolutely normal physical reaction. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

The doctor prods carefully over Arthur’s lower belly and around the base of Arthur’s cock, never pausing the gentle circular motions over his prostate. Arthur’s more and more aware of his full bladder, but he’s also aware of the full erection that will make attempts at relieving himself almost impossible.

“Everything seems to be in a good working order. The problem must be somewhere else,” Merlin says, pulling his finger out and changing the latex gloves for a new pair. “Your practician already explained to you what sounding is, right?”

“Yes, but…”

Arthur looks at his hands that are clenched on the side of the chair.

“But?” Arthur asks softly.

“I really need to… uh…”

“Oh, sorry, I almost forgot. I’ll need to take a urine sample and I’d like to do so through catheterization.”

It doesn’t ease Arthur’s nerves much, but he nods for the doctor to continue.

“This will definitely feel weird. If you feel like freaking out on me, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

The blinding smile Merlin gives him does make a bit of tension go away.

When something enters the tip of his cock, Arthur jerks back without a conscious thought.

“Easy,” Merlin says, putting a steadying hand on his thigh for a short moment before going back to his task.

Arthur can’t help but breath faster as the thin tube is pushed further inside his urethra. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s on the verge of being unbearably uncomfortable.

“And we’re in.”

He does something and Arthur’s bladder starts emptying without his conscious command. The relief is enormous and Arthur can’t stop a small moan from leaving his lips. 

“Feeling better?” Merlin asks, seemingly unaware of his hand caressing the sensitive skin of Arthur’s inner thigh.

He takes hold of Arthur’s cock and Arthur’s hips buck up on instinct.

“I could…” he says and doesn’t finish, tugging at Arthur’s cock a few times instead.

“Please,” Arthur says, barely a whisper.

Merlin speeds up his hand’s movements, flicking his thumb over the sensitive head, careful around the catheter. 

“I’m going to pull it out, okay?”

Arthur’s too far gone to respond. The steady pull of removing the tube is a completely new sensation. It’s intense, nearly overwhelming.

Rushed ‘ah’ noises escape Arthur’s lips as the last few inches of the catheter leaves his body. Once fully removed, Merlin speeds his hand up and starts massaging Arthur’s scrotum with his other hand. 

“Come on, Arthur, come on. Just let go.”

At that, Arthur’s world goes white with pleasure.

 

~x~

 

“Okay?” 

Arthur pulls Merlin down by the front of his coat, drawing him into a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“We didn’t even get to the main course,” Arthur says, stroking Merlin’s cheek.

“There’s always next time. Or round two.”

 

26.

 

The incandescent moon pierced the dark pitch of midnight over Camelot. An eerie silence flowed through the castle walls, echoing around each bend. Alone in his chambers, sat the Crown Prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon. Though the hush may have bothered some, Arthur revelled in it. He very rarely had moments of such peace. The stillness did not last for long, it was shattered moments later by blood curdling shrieking, The clash of armour and hurried footsteps of guards, racing from dungeons, into the view of Arthur.

Swift as the cunning fox, Arthur leapt from his spot, making his way to the courtyard. He found chaos; shutters being slammed as his people retreated to their homes, guards hollering orders at one another with no real structure. Arthur stood strong, and demanded, “What’s going on here?”

The guard jumped, turning to face the Prince. With nervousness lacing his voice, his eyes flicking up from the ground below them, he spoke. “Sire… The prisoner. She’s…”

He stopped; Arthur grew irritated, his body tense. He gritted his teeth replying angrily, “Spit it out man!”

“She’s escaped, my Lord.” 

Arthur tensed further, the treacherous quiver of his sculpted limbs gave away his unsettled emotions. The enraged Prince left bellowing orders to his subordinates stomping towards the stables.

Suddenly his sure footed march halted, something caught his eye in the shadows of the night. Though drenched in darkness, he was certain of what he saw. With a silent breath he crept forward till he reached the wall his target hid behind.

In a flourish of speed, strength and agility, Arthur swung round grabbing his victim, throwing them hard against the wall. Instead of the muddied brown stare of the young escaped witch, two scared cerulean eyes stared up at him through lashes of pure ebony.

“Merlin! Of all the… Always ruddy… Never listen. Why are you even out here?! Do you know how dangerous it is to be slinking around in the shadows right now?” Arthur demanded, grabbing his manservant’s shoulder, pushing him roughly against the wall.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Arthur! I can handle your idiotic guards, thank you very much,” Merlin replied insolently, never breaking their heavy gaze, locked as it was, in fury… and something else. 

Arthur growled, invading his personal space beyond propriety. Noses almost grazed, each could feel the others hot breath on their lips. There was something predatory, almost feral in Arthur’s deep azure gaze. He spoke in a husky growl, his top lip curling to bare his slightly crooked, sharp incisors. “No you’re not. But you are mine, Merlin. Never. Doubt. That.” The words punctuated with a roll of his hips, crowding Merlin against the wall. His firm body pinned his manservant. Around them the voices of search parties called out. Arthur never flinched, as though they were the only ones in the world in that moment.

“Arthur…” Merlin whispered, a ghost of a plea that he didn’t mean. 

The Prince’s thickening cock ached hearing his name on Merlin’s lips. Then he attacked; lips crashing together in a collision of fiery passion. Merlin mewled. Arthur forced his way into his mouth, claiming it as his own. Tongues wrestled; fingers grabbed. It was electric, a current that ran between them as they touched each other. Arthur released the raven haired man’s lips, only to lick across his jaw line and bite down on his alabaster neck, marking him as his. Merlin cried out in agonising pleasure, Arthur grinned undoing his neckerchief. “If you can’t stay quiet, Love… I’ll have to make you.”

Merlin pleaded with his eyes, whimpering. “I’ll be good… Arthur, please.”

This was the golden maned prince’s undoing. He grabbed Merlin’s hips, grinding his painfully hard cock against his manservant’s. They rutted wildly, harder, faster, moments stretched on. Arthur groaned, bit Merlin’s ear commanding. “Come for me. Want to lick your cock clean, make you hard again for me… all for me.”

Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder, biting him to stop the scream as he came hard, flooding his underclothes with hot ropes of come, spending himself completely, and collapsing against his Prince.

“Merlin… Merlin? MERLIN!!” shouted Arthur. Merlin snapped his eyes open just in time to see a boot flying towards his face, which just missed. 

Merlin blinked as he woke from his hundredth dream about Arthur. “…and before that you’ll see to all my needs, you do it all for me.”

Merlin’s secret smile received a strange look from Arthur. 

 

27.

 

It was the same man from before. His sweat-slick skin shone like glitter under the lights, his upper lip coated with a sheen Arthur desperately wanted to lick off, and his raven hair was plastered to his forehead. His lips were just slightly parted and his chin was tilted so that he looked out from under thick eyelashes, as if in invitation. Indeed, the way he rolled his hips and swung his arms was definitely more than inviting.

Arthur made his way over. By now this was all for appearances, the delayed moment of eye contact, the man’s body calling “If you want it, come and get it.” He’d been coming to this same club for weeks to dance with the same stranger. They’d revolve around each other for a while, not dancing together right away, then, always at a different random moment, their eyes would meet and the man would open his body like a flower for Arthur.

Arthur rolled his hips along with the raven haired man, their bodies moving in unison like tidal waves. His hands slid up Arthur’s thighs to settle on his waist and clutched the fabric. It was damp with sweat, everything was, but that somehow made it better. They were covered in each other’s perspiration, sick-sweet and slimy, gross but not giving a damn.

Their matching arousals were unmistakable with their bodies so close. When the song broke down to just drums, guitar, and a solid synth beat, dancing became more like grinding. They no longer stared at each other, but buried their faces in each other’s necks. Arthur darted his tongue out to lick a salty stripe and his partner moaned low in his ear. It was the first time Arthur heard the man make a single sound.

Wanting more, Arthur nipped the skin over the collarbone and earned a tight squeeze on his arse. His breath caught in his throat and Arthur decided to move this somewhere else. He began pulling the man towards the club loo. Nobody was there and they slammed against the wall before the door shut behind them.

Their first kiss was sloppy, unsynchronised, in contrast to their dancing. The only thing they did agree on was the need to shove their tongues down each other’s throats, then move to a stall.

Their bodies were dripping wet with sweat, so the fingering was easy. It seemed instinctual for the man to spin around and stick his arse out for Arthur. The channel was slick and not too tight and Arthur added a second finger soon after.  
“Tell me your name,” he growled in the man’s ear. “So I can scream it while I fuck you.”

“Merlin. My name is Merlin.” His voice was low, breathless, and smooth to Arthur’s ringing ears.

Arthur stuck his hand into Merlin’s back pocket—God, he looked delicious, so fucking good with his palms on the stall and his arse out like that—and dug out a condom. He got it on with practised ease and lined up his cock, pressing the blunt head to Merlin’s sweet puckered entrance.

“I’m Arthur.”

He pushed in slowly, watched the muscle close perfectly around him, and Merlin keened.

“Yes, Arthur, fuck, yes.”

“Merlin—“

“Yeah, do it, fuck me Arthur, just shove it, give it to me.”

Arthur barely stifled a moan and thrust in without restraint. Merlin let out a shaky “Yes” and pressed his forehead against the cool stall. Arthur pushed and pushed and it was rough and hurried. Weeks of dancing so close to this man, wanting to be inside him, had finally been rewarded with this explosion of lust and raw emotion.

Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, not after weeks of pining. As soon as he felt his orgasm building he reached around and stroked Merlin to a quick completion. Merlin threw his head back with a silent scream.

Arthur came hard and slipping out was more like peeling as he stepped away. Even their sweat-sticky bodies wanted to stay pressed together. Merlin did up his trousers as Arthur flushed the condom and Arthur dreaded the awkwardness sure to follow.

When he turned, however, Merlin grabbed his hand and placed a folded paper in his palm.

“I’d planned on giving you this tonight, anyway,” he said. “Don’t lose it.” He gave Arthur a final kiss and disappeared with a wicked grin.

Arthur looked at the paper in his hand. Merlin’s number.


	6. Group B (clean)

28.

 

The body Merlin woke up in today is female, young, blonde, and so reminiscent of the type of girl that Arthur used to date that Arthur is almost immediately torn between painful arousal and discomfort. Arousal wins out when Merlin looks down at his breasts, rolls his eyes, and then fixes Arthur with a scorching look. Arthur has them both stripped in record time.

“Someone’s eager,” Merlin says, and Arthur can’t help but smirk at the breathy quality to his feminine voice.

Arthur brushes his finger against the lips of Merlin’s cunt and pulls it back glistening with the wetness that’s already starting to accumulate. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

Merlin scoffs and arches his back pointedly. Arthur wastes no time in obeying the unspoken command. He edges down the bed, running his tongue along random patches of skin as he goes, delighting in the noises Merlin gives in reply. 

It’s been years since he’s gone down on a woman, but as he licks at the soft skin where Merlin’s thigh and hip met, Arthur feels it all coming back to him – like riding a bike, he supposes, and he smiles wryly as he buries his face in between Merlin’s thighs. He purses his lips around the soft hot flesh, sucking and just breathing it all in, feeling his face slowly getting wetter with Merlin’s arousal and his own saliva. He’s getting high on the taste and smell surrounding him, the sound of Merlin’s shuddering gasps –

Arthur has his tongue working circles on Merlin’s clit and two fingers fucking him at a relentless pace when he feels Merlin’s tremors crest and his body tensing. Even in a stranger's body, Arthur recognises the signs and pulls away with a smirk.

Merlin swears, cursing Arthur's name in various colourful ways, his hips jerking erratically in a futile search for friction.

“That,” Arthur says, and leans down, mouthing at Merlin's upper thigh, leaving a sticky mouth print behind, "is for refusing to fuck me yesterday.”

“You were in the body of a thirteen year old!” Merlin cries, hand travelling downwards to get himself off. Arthur bats it away and bites down in gentle reprimand. “I - aah - felt pervy just listening to you moan about how horny you were.”

Arthur just grins. “Payback's a bitch, isn't it?”

“I swear to god, Arthur,” Merlin says, squirming, “if you don’t get me off, I’ll – I’ll think of something terribly creative and cruel and-”

“All right, all right, calm down.” Arthur can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that appears as he adds, “Don’t be such a _girl_ , Merlin.”

Merlin’s laugh is loud and too high-pitched to really be his, but the half-amused, half-exasperated look in his eyes is familiar. “You’ve been saving that joke all morning, haven’t you?”

Arthur’s answer is to replace his fingers, rubbing and pinching and teasing at Merlin’s swollen clit until he comes apart with a sharp cry.

They collapse onto the bed, the breeze from the ceiling fan a comfort on their tangle of sticky, sweaty limbs. Once Merlin’s caught his breath, Arthur reaches over to run a finger down the shell of Merlin's ear. It's too small and dainty and sends a sharp pang of longing into his stomach. “Would you believe I miss your ears?” His voice is playful but gauging by Merlin's bittersweet half-smile, his messy emotions are shared.

“This can't last forever," Merlin says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Whatever this is making everybody’s bodies switch – a spell or freak of science or whatever – it’ll end.”

Arthur’s saved the trouble of trying to put his thoughts into words when Merlin rolls to lay on top of him with a wicked smile. “Now,” Merlin says, rolling his hips into the erection that hadn’t abated in the momentary lull, “let’s see if we can get this taken care of.”

 

29.

 

Merlin tugged at the ropes holding his arms and legs to Arthur’s bed. They had no give. Tying Merlin up had often been a part of their play, but never had it been so restrictive. Never had Merlin been so completely at Arthur’s mercy before; blind and bound and utterly unable to do more than breathe and harden at the thoughts of what Arthur was going to do to him this time.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes later that Merlin heard the door open, causing him to tense up. Slowly he relaxed as the shuffling sounds of Arthur’s cloak came closer. Merlin was about to open his mouth and ask—like the cheeky brat he was—what Arthur had in mind this time, but then there was another sound that gave him pause. Another cloak, by the sounds of it. Then another, and another, and another.

Merlin lost track of how many knights—they had to be knights, who else would be walking around in cloaks in the middle of the day?—were in the room now. Merlin knew he was frowning, knew Arthur didn’t like it when he frowned, but he couldn’t help it. 

Just then a hand came to his head, fingers running through his hair, nails scraping lightly across his scalp. Merlin nearly purred at the touch. There was a puff of breath next to his cheek as he heard Arthur’s voice whisper into his ear.

“Merlin. You promised you would do anything for me right? You said I could do whatever I want with you. You’re mine, right?”

Merlin hurried to nod, pinching his lips shut against the resounding _‘yes, yes, yes!’_ that threatened to get out. Arthur’s approval breathed across his neck and a small kiss was placed at the point where neck met shoulder, right on the dark bruise that Arthur had claimed as _his_ spot. Then he felt Arthur move away, and Merlin was left alone again. 

Arthur’s voice came again, this time further away. “All right then. Men, you know what to do.” 

Merlin fought not to tense up at that, at the unknown. He trusted Arthur, he did. It was the addition of who knows how many others tonight that was keeping him from the right headspace.

A touch to his thigh made Merlin jump, a gasp hissed through his teeth. Other hands joined in, caressing him all over his body; too many hands to count. The sensation of so many touches was a heady one and Merlin found himself arching this way and that trying to lean into them.

When the hands began to draw away Merlin keened, silently begging them to stay, pet him for a while longer. He heard a familiar chuckle.

“You’re such a kitten, Merlin; begging for our touch.” 

There was another laugh, from Arthur. “Stop teasing him Gwaine and get to it. You’ve only got one shot at this.”

“Maybe _you’ve_ only got one shot, Princess. But some of us can go all night.” Merlin could hear the leer in Gwaine’s voice.

The rest of the knights laughed at the ribbing, but went silent after that. Merlin was overly aware of his own breathing in the suddenly quiet room. That, and the tell-tale slicking sounds of a group of men jerking off. Merlin fought not to pant at the mental image provided by such noises. He bit his lips and tried to relax in his bonds, waiting for _something_.

The first hot stripe of come came as a complete surprise, painting across his neck. Merlin gasped, his own cock twitching at the groans of the men surrounding him. A few seconds later another splash of come hit his hip and across his thigh, coming so close to his balls it made him shiver. Then, almost at the same time, two more knights were coming on his chest. He could feel their seed dripping down to the hollow in his neck and off his shoulders. He felt dirty, painted in all of their come. He loved it.

A finger dragged up the underside of his straining cock, stopping to press into the slit. He felt another knight spend on his stomach, hot and wet. Like a kick to the stomach, Merlin’s orgasm rushed though him, body arching, toes curling. The last thing he heard before passing out was Arthur’s reverent voice calling him “Beautiful.”

 

30.

 

Arthur had never thought of himself as a particularly kinky person but then he started dating Merlin and like everything that had to do with Merlin in his life he had to start re-evaluating things. 

Not that Merlin was particularly kinky either. More on the free spirit side. Merlin was firmly in the camp of if it made you happy do it. Arthur on the other hand took some measure of cajoling. 

That’s how they ended up in the situation they now found themselves. 

“Merlin, I’m going to kill you as soon as were out of this.”

Merlin looks at Arthur and scoffs, “Yeah, right, you love me and you know it.”

“I said nothing of the sort. Now get us out of this,” he struggles against the clinging vines that somehow had wormed their way around both of them. 

“If I remember correctly it was your idea to go camping in the first place,” Merlin says pointedly as a stray vine twines itself around his and Arthur’s waist. Cinching them tighter together within the confines of the sleeping bag they were sharing.

“It was supposed to be romantic, like back when we were in Camelot! How was I to know that the vegetation would attack us?” Arthur grumbles and rubs his torso against Merlin in an attempt to evade the clinging vines.

“You do remember this is us right? When do things go right for us?” The vines now have Merlin’s hands bound tightly around Arthur’s back. Not an inch to spare between them. Merlin sigh, “Maybe if we stay really still they’ll let go?”

Arthur makes an attempt to stop moving and the vines promptly start twisting their way into his sleep pants, “Argh, _Mer_ lin this is not working."

“Arthur calm down. I think I know what they want. Just let me try something?”

“I am NOT letting you zap anything near my junk!” Arthur starts to wiggle away from Merlin as much as he which doesn't really accomplish anything, just makes to vines pull them tighter together.

“Who said anything about zapping your bits?” Merlin struggles not to giggle as his eyes glow golden. “Maybe if we just…” Merlin noses along Arthur’s jaw kissing just behind his ear.

“You mean if we…they’ll stop?” Arthur says sounding a little breathless.

“If what I’m thinking is right then…yes,” Merlin bites lightly on Arthur’s earlobe and waits for Arthur’s reaction. 

Arthur groans, “This is a bad idea.” 

“Never stopped us before,” Merlin grins and starts wiggling them into a more comfortable position. His body grinding into Arthur's as they tip unto their sides. "Yeah, that's more like it." 

Arthur's eyes glaze a little as Merlin's dick pushes up against his, even through their layers of clothes it feels fantastic. 

"Yeah, that's it. Here move like this," Arthur places both his hands on Merlin's ass and guides them into a rocking motion the vines start swaying with them. Like they're enjoying the movement.

"Arthur." Merlin whines, "I want to feel you," he tries to loose his hands from where they are tied to Arthur's back with vines but it doesn't do anything. "This is as annoying as hell."

"Wait, just a moment. Let me. There," Arthur manages to squirm one of his hands free. He wiggles around enough till eventually he's able to get his hand between them. He then makes short work of both their zippers and underwear. 

"Holy hell!" Merlin shouts when Arthur manages to get both their bare dicks into his large hand. Working them together. Smoothing the pre-come oozing from the tips of both of them along the shafts. Creating a delicious glide. 

It doesn't take long after this till they are both stiffening and cursing loudly as they come.

Merlin flops over onto Arthur's chest when he gets his breath back, "I think it worked. The vines are gone," he grins as he kisses Arthur deeply. 

"We'll never tell anyone of this right?" Arthur says quietly when they pull apart. 

Merlin just grins at him, "like anyone would believe me."

"I don't know I might. It was a pretty enthralling performance," a very amused voice outside the tent drawls.

People five camp sites down hear the yell that follows in unison, "GWAINE!"

 

31.

 

Merlin tripped up the stairs and kicked his door shut, leaning back against it to breathe. With both palms against the rough wood, he closed his eyes and gathered his courage.

Gaius was off in the lower town all evening. _Finally._

Knees weak, he lit a candle and set a wooden bowl on the stool beside the bed, then pulled a flask from his pocket. With a deep breath, he opened the stopper and poured the water into the bowl.

The moment water touched wood, a scent like all the forests of Albion sprang up: the spice of the ground after rain, the sharpness of green needles, the fresh breath of running water.

The last drop spilled out with a silver sound like a distant bell. The ripples slowed, and then-

"Freya," he rasped.

She looked up, half-startled. Seeing him, her face softened and her fingers fluttered upward, like she might reach out and touch his face. "Merlin! How did you find more-"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I took a holiday." He didn't mention how he'd half-stolen a horse, or that Arthur wouldn't speak to him for three days after he returned, or Lancelot and Gwen's matching concerned expressions.

She seemed to guess, though, because her eyes went sad. "Don't make problems for yourself just to talk to me."

"I-" He snapped his mouth shut on _was looking for you there_ , because it wasn't her fault she hadn't heard his calls. The waters of Avalon ran deep, and most of them weren't even in this world.

She would've answered, if she'd heard.

"Don't be sad," she whispered. "Oh Merlin, don't - please. I want you happy."

"I'm okay," he said, rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms. "I'm- hearing you is good."

She quirked half a smile. "Seeing you is better."

He blushed, peeking around his hands. "Really?"

It was her turn to blush and look down, and he was struck again by how much he wanted to reach out and brush a finger across her shoulder. Brush his lips there, even.

Some hint of longing must have shown in his eyes, because she bit her lip and murmured, "I could see more of you? Maybe?"

He swallowed hard. Oh. _Oh._

He found his fingers playing with his scarf of their own accord, without any input from him. But the choice to reach back and untie the knot - that was all his. The fabric caught for a moment, frustrating, and then it fluttered to the floor. The back of his hand stroked across skin that never saw sunlight, as if it were her soft hand instead.

" _Merlin._ "

Her voice gave him confidence, though his cheeks still burned in the candlelight. Shrugging off his jacket, he touched his belt, then looked up.

Their eyes met, hers holding a question. Taking a deep breath, he unfastened his belt, letting it fall to the bed. His fingers played with the edge of his tunic for a moment, then pulled it off in one decisive movement.

When he looked down, she was smiling. "Is that all?" she asked, light, teasing, and suddenly he wanted to lay bare everything he felt that had led him to run off in the night for just the possibility of seeing her again.

She looked briefly surprised when his hand dropped to the laces of his trousers, but her gaze quickly heated. "Merlin," she breathed, as he pulled himself out of his smallclothes with shaking hands.

The first touch of his fingers was a revelation, toes curling and heat racing up his spine. He made a sound through clenched teeth, and the blue of the walls pulsed in response.

"Stand up," Freya said. "Let me see all of you?"

He rose to his feet with a gasp, fingers stroking lightly, back arching as need overtook embarrassment. With his thumb he brushed the thin skin of his balls, his touch light and teasing as he imagined hers would be.

Even as his own touch drove him wild, all the while her voice was soft in his ear. "Slowly, Merlin" and "faster now" and " _I wish I could-_ "

He came over his fist, curling forward as if he'd been punched.

With desperate sound, she reached up, her hand brushing the surface of the water for a moment, so close-!

Her image shattered, the light on the water forming and reforming in ripples until only the candle was reflected.

 

32.

 

“Sire. You are needed.”

“I'm always needed,” Arthur grumbled. “And why are you bringing me this message instead of my manservant?”

“It's Merlin, Sire. He's, well, you had better see for yourself. Gaius's chambers, Sire.”

Arthur huffed as he finished signing the winter grain distribution orders. Then he trudged to Gaius's chambers, muttering about Merlin's incompetence, ready to burst in and give him a lecture about staying out all night at the tavern.

Merlin covered in red blisters, writhing in pain on Gaius's table, surrounded by the best of his knights with their, gods, with their cocks out, and Gaius shouting, “Faster, lads! Faster!” was pretty much the last thing Arthur expected to see when he entered.

“What is going on?” He managed to get the words out.

None of his knights even looked up at him.

“A curse, Merlin was cursed!” Gaius shouted with a wave of his hands.

“That doesn't explain--”

“The only known cure of spermamorbus is ejaculate, Sire.”

Arthur's jaw dropped.

“Don't just stand there catching flies in your mouth, whip it out!” Gwaine called. “I'm already on round two.”

“Is this a joke?” All the knights knew of Arthur's preference for men. Though they always seemed to be accepting, he wouldn't put it past them to have a laugh at his expense.

But then the painful noise that came out of Merlin's mouth made the gravity of the situation sink in.

Arthur took a hesitant step toward Merlin until the sight of Percival made him stop in his tracks.

Percival's dick was long and thick to match the rest of him, and his big calloused hands were working it fast. Arthur watched mesmerized as come started spurting out. Merlin sighed as the hot, white liquid hit his blistering skin. Arthur was sympathetic, as his manservant was clearly in agony, but then Percival reached forward and dragged his fingers through his seed, spreading it out, and Arthur's breeches were much tighter.

“There's a spot on his neck that needs seeing to, sire.” Gaius manhandled Arthur into position.

Merlin didn't look up as Arthur unlaced his breeches. Merlin's eyes were open but they had a wild look in them, as if he wasn't fully present. It was better that way. Arthur wasn't sure he would be able to conceal the torch he carried for Merlin if he knew Merlin could see him and how he affected Arthur.

The truth was, it was all affecting Arthur. When he pulled out his manhood, he was already hard. He licked his hand and then started stroking himself. He tried to keep his head down, but he couldn't help it. The sound of wet flesh being worked by his knights' fists, the musky scent of sex flooding his nose, even Merlin's twisting body, in spite of red blisters left behind by the curse—Arthur couldn't help but look up at the scene before him.

Leon was across the table from him, his cock leaking more and more with each frantic pull. Elyan had rolled his breeches down to his thighs and he was tugging at his bollocks, which seemed to be the trick that sent him over the edge, his come striping Merlin's right side.

Merlin sighed in relief as Elyan, too, spread his come over the redness marking his skin.

Arthur had to stifle a moan. He wasn't supposed to be taking pleasure in this, but seeing Merlin so vulnerable, naked as the day he was born, making noises that were downright obscene while getting covered in the seed of Arthur's knights—it was too much.

Gwaine caught his eye and winked right before he came, apparently for the second time, on Merlin's thighs.

Arthur flushed as he worked his own shaft. He was already so close to coming it was embarrassing, but he told himself the sooner he came, the sooner he could help ease Merlin's pain.

He looked down at Merlin's body while he sped up his hand. With the blisters starting to fade, it was easier to appreciate his lithe form. Arthur noticed that Merlin's dick was starting to thicken. He gasped softly as his eyes swept up to see that Merlin's eyes were starting to clear.

Arthur tried to think of anything else, but it was Merlin's expression of sated relief on his mind went he gave the last few tugs and came all over Merlin's neck. 

 

33.

 

Merlin hadn’t expected it to actually _work._

The instant he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. After a couple moments of confusion (Why was the ceiling scarlet? Where had his shirt gone? Had he always had that much muscle?) the truth dawned on him and he sat bolt upright in the semidarkness. Only last night he’d been lying in bed— _his own_ bed—underneath his sheets, wearing his clothes, and, perhaps most importantly, _being in his own body_. Now—

“Arthur?” murmured a sleepy voice to his left. Merlin froze. “You’re awake already? Do you really have to get up right away?”

He didn’t say anything, not trusting himself to speak, especially not with Arthur’s voice. Just as he was about to swing his leg over the side of the bed to escape, he felt slim fingers clutch his wrist and pull him back down into the satin blankets.

“Surely you can spare your own _wife_ just a few minutes?” said Guinevere coyly, the hand that had once grasped his wrist was now moving up his— _Arthur’s_ —bare chest in such a way that he momentarily forgot how to breathe. By the time he managed to bully his lungs into working again, Gwen was only inches away.

“ _Gwen_ —” he choked out before being cut off by her lips. All thoughts were temporarily suspended, aside from a small, rather unhelpful voice that repeatedly reminded him, “ _This is_ Gwen!” Otherwise, he did not reflect on the feeling of her hair brushing his cheek, or the way her breath mingled with his, or the way—oh _God_ , her _lips!_ —the way her hand had begun to travel downwards, towards his—

“ _Gwen, please_ —” he begged again.

“Honestly, you spend all your time with that Council! I doubt they’ll miss you for a few more minutes—you know, all they do is gossip like old women when you’re away.”

“No, Gwen, wait—”

“Stop it! You’re not leaving until you’ve pleased your wife, and that’s final.” With that, she reached into his trousers and grasped his— _Hnnng_ —and then moved so she was straddling his lap. Any more protests he may have had disappeared as a sharp gasp was smothered by her lips once more. He was kissing Gwen, oh _God_ , he was _kissing Gwen,_ but somehow he no longer cared, because _damn him_ if this wasn’t making Arthur’s body react. The sound around them temporarily dimmed as blood pumped fiercely in his ears, and he could have sworn his vision dimmed a bit as well, so that all he could see was _Gwen, Gwen, Gwen._ Without any consent on his part, his hands began to move on either side of her, up her nightdress, pulling the thin silk over her head and revealing her in all her glory. He stared, because contrary to what was, thanks to Gaius, popular belief, being the King’s manservant didn’t allow for hardly any time spent at the tavern, or any place frequented by young women, for that matter.

“ _Oh,_ ” he breathed.

It was almost as if he were watching the scene from afar. Suddenly he was flipping them over, hovering over Gwen similar to how she had been positioned over him only moments before. Now she was helping him get rid of the trousers, now she was guiding him between her legs, and now he was pressing in, slow and warm and wonderful all at once. It was too much, too much for Arthur and Merlin both. By the time Merlin's mind had caught up, Arthur was already finished, and Gwen was looking put out.

"Are you going for a record now?" she huffed, pulling away and falling back onto the bed beside him. "I'd bet that _Merlin_ could last longer, and I'm not sure he's even been with a woman before."

Merlin was too caught up in the afterglow to feel mortified by that comment.

 

34.

 

“A message for you, Sire,” Elyan stood close as Arthur paused at the barrel to splash away his morning’s exertions. He lowered his voice discretely. “From Merlin, Sire.” 

Arthur straightened quickly, glancing at the men on the field, then motioned Elyan to follow him into the deserted armory. “I’ll take the message in here, Elyan, thank you.”

As Arthur waited earnestly, Elyan felt trepidation for this arrangement. He still didn’t trust sorcery, it was only because it was *Merlin’s* magic that he’d agreed at all. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and relinquished control to the sorcerer.

It felt odd at first, being gently nudged to the side of his own thoughts as Merlin seeped into his mind. His solemn expression widened into a saucy grin, his broad shoulders slumped forward in casual familiarity. It startled him when Merlin’s voice poured from his lips. “As prattish as ever, Sire. Shall I report on the negotiations, then?” Arthur nodded, and as Merlin spoke, Elyan could feel beneath the diplomatic strategies the warmth of Merlin’s deep regard for his King. Was this what it was to love, deeply and unconditionally?

As Merlin drew to a close, Elyan’s gaze rose to meet Arthur’s, the King’s expression soft and filled with longing. “Merlin, I’ve missed you.” 

“And I, you, sire - I missed your whining, you big prat!” Elyan chuckled silently. But then Merlin was pressing Elyan’s lips to the King’s, sighing as Arthur’s mouth opened and his hand came up to tangle in Elyan’s cropped hair. 

_What? What’s this? Oi! I’m right here!!!_ Elyan thought frantically at Merlin. He hadn’t known… this was *not* what he’d volunteered for! 

_Sorry, Elyan_ , Merlin sheepishly pulled away from Arthur. Elyan was flooded with the intensity of Merlin’s isolation, the loneliness of his diplomatic exile, the longing for his heart’s love. 

And the expression in Arthur’s eyes, so honest, vulnerable... never had any gazed upon Elyan with such raw longing. He felt the corresponding need rise in his own heart. _Do it_ , he thought to Merlin. _He needs you_.

Merlin surged Elyan’s body forward, dark lips crashing against Arthur’s pale ones, blunt fingers grasping at the clasps to the royal armour. Elyan sensed the familiarity with which Merlin reached for Arthur’s body. Why had no one suspected? They were not particularly discrete – Elyan was intensely aware of the proximity of knights training just outside. What would they think, he wondered, should they come seeking their King and find him tugging off Elyan’s tunic and mouthing along Elyan’s dark collarbone? A thrill ran through him.

Arthur lay him down on the floorboards, hands sure and gentle, teasing moans from Merlin that Elyan echoed in silent agreement. He took his time preparing Elyan’s inexperienced body, stretching and soothing him, Merlin calming his pain as the King pressed into him. It seemed Arthur was not unaffected by Elyan’s presence within his lover – he paused often to ask Merlin if Elyan was okay, murmured appreciation for the ebony body straining beneath him as he stroked and explored, teasing out Elyan’s responses. “So gorgeous, so hard for me…” His thrusts deepened, and Merlin widened his legs to pull Arthur in deeper, feeling Elyan’s enthusiastic encouragement.

Arthur pulled Elyan to his lap, gripping his cock and thrusting hard as Elyan’s legs wrapped around his waist. The position sent shocks through Elyan, and he and Merlin both groaned as his pleasure crested and his seed spilled over Arthur’s belly. The King arched and came with a shout far too loud for their locale.

Arthur seemed to sense the spell was fading. He cupped Elyan’s cheek tenderly, kissing Merlin and whispering his name, and then Elyan’s awareness was racing back along his extremities, from his curling toes to his flushed lips. And to his hands tightly clutching his naked King.

Arthur flushed a beet-red, but Elyan just nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. It was an honour to be used by the King and his lover in this way, now he understood the depth of the secret love between them. He carefully lifted off Arthur’s softening member, deferentially offering him a cloth to wipe himself. They dressed in silence, and then Elyan, in a show of sympathy, clasped Arthur’s arm briefly before returning to the field. 

~

Arthur opened his chamber door to Sir Percival’s shy knock. “A message for you, Sire. From Merlin.”  
Arthur could not keep the eager expression from his face as he hurried the great man into his chambers. 

 

35.

 

"Oh my god, _Mer_ lin." Arthur can feel eyes on them, which makes complete sense because they are sitting in the busy park just on the edge of campus. On a very nice day. The first one in a while. So it's not really a surprise that the park is busy. 

That's an understatement. It's _really_ busy. Full with students from the university and the local high school, plus a couple small families. All out to enjoy the warm weather, because after the winter they've had, you'd be crazy to stay in. So, busy.

And that's why he and Merlin are outside, sprawled out on a blanket that smells a little like musty dorm closet, because they probably haven't used it since they moved out of the dorms, but it's fluffy and warm under the sun. They have the legs of their jeans pulled up above their knees and Arthur has stripped off his polo, leaving his arms bare in his wife beater. They'd been laying there for a long time, basking in the sun and lazily talking, when Merlin had rolled on his side next to Arthur and smirked.

Let it be known that it is _never _a good sign when Merlin smirks.__

__Because Arthur is still laid out on his back, but now he has a Merlin half sprawled on top of him, and his cock throbbing in his jeans. Because Merlin is evil._ _

__Arthur holds back a groan as best as he can when Merlin licks across the tender skin below, and just behind, his ear. He's not playing fair. Merlin knows how that particular spot affects him. It's basically a direct link to his dick._ _

__Arthur probably should have seen this coming. It was only a couple of days ago that the subject of "kinks" had come up. In the five months that they've been dating, Arthur has learned a plethora of things about his boyfriend. Things he probably should have known or realized in the four years they've been dorm-mates, then friends, then roommates._ _

__But evidently Arthur didn't know everything. Because finding out that Merlin had a kink for exhibitionism... well, that had been intense. And maybe a really big turn on. Like maybe Arthur hadn't known it could be a kink for him, too until Merlin had mentioned it. Because it sounded really amazing in theory._ _

__Except, Arthur isn't sure anymore because as much as he's enjoying Merlin's attention right now, he's not so keen on the other people in the park being privy to it. His mind is warring with his cock and as much as Arthur isn't interested in everyone seeing what Merlin is doing to him, his cock is winning._ _

__Hard._ _

__"Holy _fuck_ ," Arthur breathes out, trying to not be loud and draw more attention to them. It's so hard though when Merlin's lips are attached to that spot and he's drawing up the knee between Arthur's legs and subtly rubbing into him. "This isn't a good idea." Arthur wishes he sounded more firm about that._ _

__But Merlin just chuckles into his skin and says in a dark, sexed out voice, "But it is. Because everyone knows what we're doing. And they all see you're _mine_. Mine to do what I want with. Mine to kiss and lick. Mine to _fuck_." Arthur shudders and lifts his hips, his cock brushing into Merlin's thigh and Merlin's hard length pressing into his hip. "They all want to be me right now. And when they go home tonight, and they're lying in bed, they'll be imagining you and the way you look right now. They're going to get off thinking about you and wishing they were me."_ _

__Arthur can't stop the groan that escapes when just those words have him coming hard in his jeans. Merlin mewls into his neck then and Arthur feels him shudder against him. Arthur should feel embarrassed, but he's too sated and tired to care._ _

____

*****

Later, when they're back home, cleaned up and lying in bed, Merlin looks at Arthur and blushes when he asks, "So, how was my first try at dirty talk?"

Arthur grins at him. He's so glad they had that kinks conversation

 

36.

 

"I need an intern," Arthur told Human Resources. "Send that Merlin one."

"Merlin's a bight lad, sir. But young and not ready to work for a CEO."

"He'll do. Nine sharp in my office. Tell him to wear a decent suit. Not that awful excuse for one I've seen him wear. And not to be late!"

But Merlin was late, stammering apologies and wearing the same suit.

"I know - I didn't say you could sit." Arthur waited until Merlin stood up. "I know HR gave you instructions."

"The train - and this is the only suit I have and -"

"Enough!" Merlin glared at him. Stubborn and feisty, just the way Arthur liked. "It's Mr Pendragon - not Arthur. I will buy your clothes for the office -"

"No! I can't let -"

"Shut up. To work here you must portray a certain image."

Merlin snorted. "I think you picked the wrong bloke. Look at me."

Arthur's eyes roamed over Merlin, pausing on his sleek, pale neck and had to fight the urge to pin him down and mark it. He reached Merlin's eyes and saw an understanding of his intentions.

"Well..." Merlin looked at his feet and Arthur thought that was that - Merlin didn't want to play. "Will you go with me... shopping?" Head titled, he looked up through thick, dark lashes, coy and shy, blood filling his cheeks. 

Arthur's blood filled something else entirely. "I don't have time for trivial things."

"You're the one who wants the suits!"

Arthur was out of his seat and toe-to-toe with Merlin in a heartbeat. "You will do what I tell you. When I tell you. You only get to ask one thing of me." He held a strategic pause.

"What's that, _Mr Pendragon_?" 

"You get to ask me to _fuck_ you."

"Ohjesuschrist."

"I'll fuck you only then. Right here on my desk."

"What makes you so sure I'll ask?"

He looked at Merlin's obvious erection. "Because you're a cockslut... but right now, you're just going to watch."

"Watch what? Oh..."

Arthur leaned back against the desk, took his cock out, and jerked himself off in front of a stunned Merlin, who, through the awkwardness, still looked at Arthur's cock like he wanted to devour it. 

It didn't take long for him to come, head back, grunting shamelessly. After he composed himself, he pointed at the come on the floor and said, "Clean that up. Then get to work." 

And he walked out, smug and satisfied, leaving Merlin speechless and looking furious.

The next day, Merlin entered Arthur's office and, without a greeting or a compliment on Merlin's new suit, Arthur said, "On your knees and suck my cock."

Jesus, he had thought about that all night and the look of shock on Merlin's face with the contrasting lust in his eyes turned Arthur's cock rock hard.

"Now, Merlin! I have a call in fifteen minutes!"

"Yes, Mr Pendragon." Merlin fell to his knees. 

Arthur took his cock out slowly, enjoying Merlin attempting to look defiant, yet licking his lips in anticipation. He ran his cock over those lips. "Nice. Perfect for a cockslut like you. Now, be a good boy and - oooohyes. Take it, baby." He ran his finger gently down Merlin's cheek. "You were aching to taste my cock, weren't you?" 

The intercom buzzed. "Mr Pendragon, your call came in early. Do you want me to -"

"Put them through."

Merlin stopped and started to stand. Arthur pushed him down. "Do not stop." 

The long-winded idiot on the call didn't realise that Arthur had him on mute often because Arthur couldn't stop encouraging Merlin. "Fuck. You're so fucking good. I know you love it."

When the call finally ended, he grabbed Merlin's head in both hands and fucked his mouth. Merlin took all of his come, moaning while shallowing it.

"Fuckfuckfuck." Merlin sat back on his heels, rubbing his cock through his clothes. "Ohfuck... Mr Pendragon...?" 

"What, Merlin?" Merlin looked wrecked. Maybe Arthur was wrong and Merlin wasn't as strong as he'd thought and he'd pull the plug on this too soon.

But he didn't. He took a long, deep breath and squeezed his cock before he stood. 

"Mr Pendragon, will that be all?"

"For today."

Merlin nodded and headed for the door. "And, Merlin... when you ask - no _beg_ me to fuck you - I expect you to be prepared already. Open and wet for my cock. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting any longer."

The last sound Arthur heard before the door closed was a whimper.

 

37.

 

Arthur woke up sore, his whole body aching as though he’d just been trampled. The cold air stirred around him as he shifted between scratchy sheets, bringing with it a welcome aroma. It was ... _Merlin_. Arthur sucked the scent in deep, curious. He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes and saw long, slender fingers that were achingly familiar but not his own.

He burst out of the room, startling Gaius so badly he dropped the tonic he’d been swirling. Arthur apologised, and Merlin’s voice croaked out of his throat, deeper than usual, intimate and _wrong_. He tried running, but Merlin’s legs were all long and wobbly, and Arthur felt like a newborn colt trying to navigate the castle.

It took ages to get to his own chambers, and when he tumbled inside, he was stunned into surreal silence. He saw himself in the bed, stark naked with legs sprawled wide across the duvet, hand moving roughly over his cock and face buried under a pillow. Rough groans floated across the room, sounds deeper, more desperate than any Arthur had ever made. The body on the bed was strung tight, tensed up with that ache Arthur knew well.

“Merlin,” Arthur barked, the regal effect lost in Merlin’s casual voice.

The body on the bed abruptly stopped moving, and Merlin yanked up the covers. Arthur nearly laughed at the absurdity of protecting his body’s modesty from its rightful owner.

“Are you—were you _defiling_ my body?”

“Er, no,” Merlin said, slipping the pillow off his face a bit.

“You’re going to figure out what’s happened to us,” Arthur said, “and I’m going to return the favour. Let’s see what nasty secrets you’ve been hiding.”

Merlin’s borrowed face looked genuinely concerned.

Arthur nearly toppled over when he turned to leave.

***

Merlin’s cock was slick in Arthur’s hand, drenched in the oil he’d found stashed in Merlin’s cabinet. This body was fucking _incredible_. There was something about it, deep and intense, something more than Arthur’s own. Merlin was surprisingly beautiful under his clothes, wiry muscles stretched tight under smooth skin. The hair at his groin was jet black, and Arthur couldn’t keep his hands away, scraping his fingers through it as he reached down to cup Merlin’s balls.

He brought his hand to his nose, sucking in the scent of Merlin’s sex: close, heady, worth drowning in. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, biting around them to keep from crying out, because this was by far the best wank session he’d ever had. Everything about Merlin’s body was sensitive and richly intense. From his nipples to his hips to the insides of his elbows, every touch felt magnified, resonant.

This was Arthur’s fourth time wanking—in a row. Merlin’s body didn’t stop, didn’t give up or lose its desperate need for more touch. It was ravenous, and Arthur wondered how Merlin touched himself, how he ever _stopped_ touching himself, how Merlin didn’t cry out with pleasure every time Arthur gathered the back of his neck in his palm, because _god_ , everything felt good. Everything.

He was on the verge of coming again when the door creaked open and Arthur’s body stepped inside, broad and menacing and with an insolent facial expression Arthur didn’t think he’d ever worn himself.

“I see you made good on your threat,” Merlin said, and Arthur’s voice really did come off incredibly arrogant—this pleased him.

“God, how do you ever stop?” Arthur said, wrecked and pathetic, hand still wrapped around Merlin’s cock because he was so close, and he couldn’t bear to stop now.

“I have excellent self-control,” Merlin said, closing the door behind him.

Arthur didn’t have a clear understanding of what happened then, of the words and movements that led to this, and it really didn’t matter. Merlin’s lips (which were actually Arthur’s) closed around the head of his prick, sinking down, sucking. Arthur squinted his eyes shut, replacing the image of his own face with Merlin’s, and instead of noting how fucked up all of this was, Arthur came slick and steep into Merlin’s mouth, sharp and intense as though it was ripping him apart.

Something shifted internally, a jolt that felt like being slotted into place. When Arthur regained awareness, he realised his mouth was on Merlin’s cock, licking up the last of his seed. And when Arthur glanced up to see Merlin’s face, his glassy eyes and soft, pink lips, he sunk back down, intent to bring him off again.

 

38.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Arthur asked Merlin. His hand was warm against the curve of Merlin’s hip and he moved into the touch, completely bare. They both were. 

Merlin swallowed, his throat dry, and nodded. “You’re not having second thoughts are you?” He worked up a reassuring smile. 

“No,” Arthur murmured, looking dazed and a bit awed. “Thank you for doing this.”

Merlin couldn’t stop the laugh that broke free. “It’s not exactly a hardship on my part.” He assured and Arthur grinned, shaking his head as reached for the jar they kept beside the bed. 

“Percival.” Arthur called and the knight stepped away from the wall he’d been leaning against, shirtless. Merlin rose up a bit, balanced on his elbows, to watch as Arthur left the bed and began working on the ties of Percival's trousers. He could already see Percival’s arousal straining against the dark material as Arthur’s hand deliberately brushed over it. Their voices were too low for him to hear but Arthur said something to make Percival grin and his eyes went from Arthur to Merlin in interest.

Merlin felt anticipation thrum through his body as Percival’s trousers dropped. His cock was long and slender and when Arthur’s hand wrapped around it Merlin felt his mouth go dry again. Then he released Percival’s cock and walked him back beside Merlin, handing the jar of slick to Percival.

“Hey,” Percival greeted Merlin as he coated his fingers, his other hand reaching for Merlin’s thigh as Arthur was pressing a pillow under his hips to tilt them more.

“Hey.” Merlin smiled back, feeling a bit breathless as he felt Percival’s fingers rub against him. He didn’t waste any time, pressing in two together while Merlin bit his bottom lip and tried to adjust to the burn. Arthur’s hand was a firm pressure on his neck as he tilted Merlin’s head back to bite gently at his lips. Merlin mouth fell open on a moan as Percival’s fingers twisted with intent. Arthur moved kissing him firm and dirty, taking control of Merlin’s mouth as Percival’s fingers opened him up. 

He added a third finger and Arthur moved his mouth to Merlin’s neck, mouthing lightly at the skin as Merlin gasped. He jerked his hips back towards Percival’s thick fingers and fingers clutched tightly in the blanket. 

“Is he ready?” Arthur’s breath was hot against his neck.

Percival thrust his fingers deeply one last time before pulling them out “He’s ready now.”

Arthur pressed another kiss to his throat and lay back as Merlin turned, throwing a leg over Arthur’s waist. They’d discussed in depth how this would work beforehand. Merlin reached back to grab and position Arthur’s cock before he sunk down slowly, using his hands on Arthur’s shoulders as leverage as they started an easy rhythm. Percival had done a good job opening him up, the stretch was easy and slick. 

Before long the bed shifted and Merlin felt Percival’s hand as he trailed it over Merlin’s backside, pressed a soft kiss to the base of his spine before his fingers brushed where Arthur and Merlin were joined. One slipped in beside Arthur’s cock and Arthur’s rhythm stuttered. He held still as Percival pressed another finger in, stretching Merlin more for what was to come. 

“Come on.” Merlin urged, heart pounding wildly. Arthur’s eyes were bright and there would be bruises where he was gripping Merlin’s waist. 

He felt Percival’s fingers withdraw only to be replaced with the head of his cock. He pressed in slowly beside Arthur and suddenly Merlin found it hard to breathe. Percival groaned behind him, his hand finding the small of Merlin’s back and pressing him forward and down.

Merlin sobbed into Arthur’s neck as he was filled, stretched more than he’d ever been before. It had been Arthur’s idea, a long held fantasy whispered in the quiet of night, and something he’d heard his knights talk of in hushed whispers. Merlin had been more than willing to try it, had understood, and he’d been the one to pick Percival. 

Percival grunted as he fully sheathed himself. They moved together, one withdrawing as the other pushed, creating a rhythm that had Merlin shaking between them. 

Arthur came first, groaning, holding Merlin tightly against him. Percival fucked through the wetness of it in short, hard bursts before following. Merlin moaned and writhed, skin too tight and hot, before Arthur finally wrapped a slick hand around him and gave him relief. 

 

39.

 

Merlin stretched out on his blanket and watched as Gwaine and Arthur tussled in the waves breaking against the shore. He relaxed back and closed his eyes, basking in the sun as it beat down on him and let his hands wander over his sun-warmed skin. The beach around them was nearly abandoned, and watching his boys glisten in the heat was very...invigorating.

He sighed as caressed the skin above his waistband and then grinned when a shadow fell across his face. Cold water droplets sprinkled across hot skin as fabric rustled on both sides. He slipped his hand into his shorts and began to tease.

“Well, Gwaine,” Arthur said, amusement heavy in his voice. “What have we here?”

“I believe, dear Arthur,” Gwaine replied in kind, “that we have a very naughty boy who’s started without us.” Arthur hummed in agreement. “How ever shall we punish him?”

Merlin grinned in anticipation when Arthur responded, “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

Merlin half opened his eyes at the wet sound of lips meeting and tightened his hand on his cock. He stroked lazily while watching the two kiss, catching glimpses of glistening tongues. Pushing himself up, he reached up and turned Gwaine’s head, stealing him away from Arthur. He gasped into the kiss when Arthur batted his hand away from his cock and replaced it with his own.

“What shall we do with you, Merlin?” Arthur whispered against his ear. Arthur’s hand twisted around the head of his dick, and Merlin moaned and bucked up into it. 

Pulling away from Gwaine, he looked at Arthur and said, “Fuck me. Lube’s in the bag.” 

Gwaine’s weight left his side as he leaned over and grabbed the duffel they’d brought with them. “Came prepared, did you, sweetheart?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“Well --” Merlin gasped and moaned at the feel of blunt, wet fingers against his hole and bore down eagerly. It’d been days since they’d all been together and he missed having both their hands on him. 

“Eager,” Arthur said approvingly, leaning down and licking into Merlin’s mouth. “Who do you want, love?” he whispered as he pulled back.

“Both of you,” Merlin moaned as Gwaine added a third finger and twisted. “Please.”

“Turn over, then,” Arthur said. Merlin moaned as Gwaine’s fingers slipped from his body. “And let us get you ready.”

Merlin scrambled a bit, chucking his shorts as he flipped over onto all fours. The sound of cloth rustling as the other two undressed was almost lost in the noise of the waves, as was Merlin’s contented sigh. 

Callused hands ran over his back and were soon followed by soft lips. He moaned and hummed in pleasure when fingers once again filled his hole. His moans grew louder when the warm, wet heat of a talented tongue joined the rhythm set by the fingers deep in his ass. 

More fingers joined the fray, and Merlin hissed at the stretch. It felt so good, though, and soon he was rutting back against them. “I’m good,” he moaned. “I’m ready. Do it!”

The fingers and tongue disappeared, making Merlin whimper a little at the loss; but they were soon replaced by the blunt pressure of a very hard cock. 

“All right, sweetheart,” Gwaine said, turning Merlin’s head and kissing him deeply. Merlin mewled as Gwaine slid in easily. He set a steady rhythm and Merlin reveled in the feel of it; but soon grew impatient. 

“Arthur!” he demanded.

“Yes, yes,” Arthur chuckled. “So impatient.” He slid in as Gwaine pulled out, and Merlin whimpered and whined at the feel of them both, filling him so full he almost couldn’t stand it. His neglected cock pulsed and grew a bit harder as his lovers set an off rhythm to each other, one pulling out as the other pulled in. 

All the while, neither’s hands were idle, stroking and caressing and kisses raining down to cover as much of Merlin and each other as they could. It wasn’t long before the rhythm faltered, and first Gwaine and then Arthur fell over the edge, both crying out as they reached completion deep within Merlin. 

The weight of them as they collapsed against him sent Merlin flying, and he joined them in sated bliss.

 

40.

Title: Life, illustrated by...

Merlin woke to Arthur’s kisses, the light press and retreat of lips with the occasional rasp of stubble tickling the sensitive skin of his neck as Arthur’s tongue snaked out to trace the bold lines of tattoo that graced the skin. Arthur’s right leg shifted beneath the blankets, his knee pressing into the back of Merlin’s own and nudging until Arthur’s leg lay between Merlin’s splayed thighs. The sure, unrelenting drive of two fingers into his hole was not unexpected, nor the harsh bite delivered to the base of his neck, the hot suction that followed causing Merlin’s eyes to roll back. His cry was more than enough to alert Arthur to Merlin’s consciousness.

“Why here?” Arthur queried, mouth gone soft, as he slowly twisted his fingers inside Merlin, chest squeezing tight with possession at the feel of his own come keeping Merlin slick and ready. Despite being hoarse with sleep Arthur’s words rang loud in the early-morning quiet; he’d never learnt volume control, too used to his every word being an order, a command. 

Merlin pulled his right hand from where it had spent the night tucked under his pillow and reached down to hold himself open whilst his left fisted in the pillowcase. 

“I tried walking away once.” The absent nuzzling on his neck ceased as Arthur tightened his grip, buried fingers stilling, as if worried he might try again, that Arthur might get left behind to suffer the loneliness that Merlin had endured. He moved to withdraw from Merlin before finding his wrist encased by Merlin’s fingers, gently pressing Arthur’s fingers back inside. 

“I tried. I left Camelot,” he’d never returned from the lake, “left England, Europe even.” Merlin focused on the digital clock upon his bedside table and watched the display change, a faulty LED causing time to reverse as the seven became a six again and then a nine. He could have fixed it, but he enjoyed how irritated it made Arthur, keen to hear him rant about something inconsequential once again. Too many years without it had hollowed him. 

“But you can see how well that went.” 

Arthur could never understand what Merlin had lived through; the isolation and self-loathing, the centuries of despair. And cruel, vicious hope that came hand-in-hand with watching the world blaze in fire and blood and death while furtively hoping that this was enough destruction to bring Arthur back.

“But I couldn’t. I couldn’t walk away, not from you. So I stopped trying.”

“And got this,” Arthur nudged the illustrated skin with his nose, revelling in the shudder it elicited. 

“Not for some centuries, but yeah.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Merlin scoffed, “Because it’s your crest?”

“Because it’s ours.” Arthur rewarded Merlin with a third finger, even though the disrespectful bugger didn’t deserve one, pushing his lover further onto his belly so he could rut against him, teasing them both with the feel of his cock dragging slick trails across Merlin’s lower back. “The Chief of Dragons and the Dragon Lord.” 

“Does that mean I can command you?” came the cheeky retort.

‘ _Yes, **yes**_ ’. “You can try.” Arthur bit down again, sending another delicious wave of heat and electricity down Merlin’s spine, pooling at his hips and making his body quake. 

“You really like that don’t you?” Arthur breathed into Merlin’s ear before suckling the fleshy lobe into his mouth. 

Merlin hadn’t known just how sensitive the base of his neck was until the tattoo artist had begun his work; the touch of the needle had been like hooking himself into an electrical outlet. Which he’d accidently done once and did not recommend. He hadn’t even needed to stutter through asking Arthur to bite him there when his king had returned; Arthur had mounted him like a dog, fervent hands hauling him to all fours and spreading his ass and that long-missed cock splitting him wide had had him unable to hold his head up. Arthur had blanketed his back, and sunk his teeth into the swell of vertebrae and skin and ink. Merlin had grunted, come and collapsed onto the bed all at roughly the same time. Later Arthur would smugly claim he’d blacked out from the pleasure but only to cover how terrified he’d been until he’d realised that Merlin’s reaction was one of extreme pleasure. 

“But why there?” 

Merlin waited as Arthur removed his fingers, cock nudging impatient at Merlin’s hole and as Arthur shifted to slide home, he answered,

“It was the last place you ever touched me.”

 

41.

 

Arthur spots the kid first.

But of course, he did. Before Percival got him on his knees, the too-pretty, blue-eyed boy he could bend over and boss around was exactly his type.

“We should take him in,” Percival says as they watch the kid—who can’t be more than eighteen—slip into the alley beside the Soho bar with the American tourist he’s been chatting up for the last five minutes.

“I’ve got a better idea.” Arthur hasn’t looked away since they spotted him. When Percival glances down, Arthur’s hard cock strains against his uniform. “Let’s wait.”

So they do. He indulges Arthur not only because solicitation isn’t really their beat, but also because Percival loves him. If this is what he wants, this is what he gets.

The American emerges first, fixing his fly. As Arthur strides forward, images of the kid sagging against the wall with come dripping down the back of his slim thighs convince Percival this is a very good idea indeed.

“Well, look what we found, Perc.” Arthur makes a show of folding his arms over his chest to heighten his authority. The kid straightens in alarm, and though he’s got a few inches on Arthur, he doesn’t have the strength. Against Percival, Arthur doesn’t either, but this is his show to command. For now.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” Arthur interrupts. “Don’t waste our time denying it.”

Any innocence the kid might’ve worn drops away. His gaze jumps from Arthur’s police uniform to his crotch, and his nostrils flare. “Look, it was just a twenty quid suckjob. You want it? We’ll forget this ever happened.”

When he reaches for his front pocket, however, Arthur grabs his wrist. “You think I’d settle for a few quid?” With a deft move Percival uses on him all the time, Arthur twists the kid around to slam him into the wall. His broad body pins the slimmer form with ease, and as he uses his free hand to reach around and open the kid’s jeans, he bites into the boy’s shoulder.

Crying out in pleasure, the kid jerks, grinding his ass against Arthur’s covered cock. Percival edges closer, but Arthur is oblivious, his movements nearly frantic as he shoves the jeans out of his way.

“Is that your specialty?” Arthur hisses. “Swallowing cock?”

The angle means Arthur can’t see the sly gleam that appears in the boy’s eyes. Percival can.

“Absolutely not.” Just in case Arthur mistakes his meaning, he spreads his legs wider.

Even Percival can barely breathe. When Arthur shoves his fingers into the whore’s mouth, they both groan when the kid sucks on them hard enough to be heard. Arthur lasts like that for mere seconds before he’s burying them inside the ass he wants, twisting his wrist for the scant stretching he needs before the tip of his cock is lined up with the hole. He drives upward, but at the first sound of the kid’s scream, clamps his hand over his mouth to shut him up.

Percival can’t hold off any longer. He pulls out his prick and strokes it at the same tempo of Arthur’s vigorous thrusts. Arthur won’t last. He gets off too easily on this scenario. The whore won’t be long either if his bobbing erection is anything to gauge by.

“Face him toward me,” Percival orders.

The boy furrows his brow in confusion, but Arthur obeys. Arthur always obeys.

Then it’s just a matter of time. Percival holds off until Arthur slams inside the kid one last time, his head dropping back as he comes, but as Arthur falls to his knees to startle the whore by fusing his mouth to the boy’s dripping hole, Percival aims his cock right where he wants. Two pulls at his length, and he shoots onto the whore’s pale stomach, satisfied when it drips down to mat in the dark hair.

“Clean him up, Arthur.”

The kid stands in shock as Arthur crawls to his front and licks away every drop.

Percival levels a warning finger at him. “We see you around here again, we might not be so nice.”

Understanding dawns in those cunning eyes. With a quick tug of his jeans, he’s tucked away and backing off before Arthur can stand again. “Nice is overrated. The name’s Merlin. Don’t see me, just ask around.”

And they would. The ravenous way Arthur climbs up Percival’s body at Merlin’s exodus demands it.

 

42.

 

Merlin hissed as he pulled off his shoes, his t-shirt scraping over the small bandage on his right nipple. Arthur popped his head around the corner.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked him. He was still dressed from work, his dress shirt rolled up around his forearms.

Merlin nodded, smiling sheepishly, his hand raising unconsciously to cup his sore nipple.

Arthur's eyes widened. "Did you get it done today then?" He took Merlin's smile for a yes. "Aw, you should have told me! You know I would have came with you."

Merlin shrugged and pulled off his jacket, hanging it up in the hall closet. "You've been super busy with the office, and I had a free hour today." He grinned. "Plus I thought you'd like the surprise."

Arthur licked his lips. "Can I see it?"

Rolling his eyes, Merlin walked towards him for a brief kiss. "Wash your hands," he ordered, pulling away. 

While Arthur was scrubbing, Merlin went to the bathroom and washed his own hands, setting out some supplies. Hunching forward, he peeled off his shirt, and then the white gauze taped to his chest.

There was a silver barbell in his nipple, making it red and swollen. There was still a bit of blood clinging, but otherwise it didn't look that bad. Merlin looked up when Arthur walked into the bathroom.

Wordlessly, Arthur pushed him to sit on the closed toilet seat. He ran gentle fingertips around Merlin's pec, before running the pad of his thumb over the inflamed tip. Merlin twitched under his touch, sensitive. 

"Can I?" Arthur asked, reaching for a cotton ball. Merlin nodded, and tried to keep still as Arthur gently wet his nipple and washed the blood off.

"I'm supposed to take a shower sometime tonight too," he said, and Arthur shrugged, intent on his work. 

Once done, Arthur patted him dry and rested a fingertip on the barbell, tapping twice.

Merlin flinched, the pain mixing with sweet pleasure, not being able to help a low moan as his half-interested cock hardened.

"You're still high on the endorphins, aren't you?" Arthur said, amused, and Merlin's eyes flew open. He nodded, his blood singing beneath his skin.

"We should do something about that then." Arthur had a cat-like grin on his face as he dropped to his knees between Merlin's legs.

"We can't play with it just yet," Merlin warned him, his breath starting to come ragged. "And it takes a couple of months before you can use your mouth. Germs and everything."

"I know, I know," Arthur soothed him, fingers tickling his ribs. "This one, however..."

Arthur trailed off as he leaned forward to close his mouth around Merlin's other nipple, his tongue probing the silver ring there and sucking, hard.

Merlin let his head fall back with a cry, hands raising to clutch the back of Arthur's head, his hips jutting forward. Arthur scooted closer, grabbing him by the ass to pull him to the edge of the toilet seat, the perfect position for Merlin to grind his cock against Arthur's abs. 

Pulling back with a brief tug of his teeth on the ring, Arthur admired his work. Now both of Merlin's nipples were red puckered. "You could have at least got them to match," Arthur said, admonishing, critically eyeing the barbell and the ring.

Merlin laughed, breathless, his hips still twitching forward to get some friction off Arthur's front. "More variety for you to play with this way."

Arthur pursed his lips, but leaned forward to lavish Merlin's nipple with his tongue again, swirling and sucking, worrying the ring, making Merlin gasp and shudder. Arthur reached down to cup him, the pressure making Merlin moan deep in his throat.

"Yes," he said, almost inaudible. "Please, Arthur." 

Without freeing his nipple, Arthur managed to get his jeans unzipped and down enough for Merlin to grind into his hand, whimpering until Arthur finally gripped him properly and started to stroke.

The stimulation was too much, and Merlin pushed Arthur's head away from his nipple. Arthur's mouth was bright red, his eyes feverish. Merlin leaned down to kiss him, to bite his bottom lip as he came with a cry across Arthur's dress shirt.

Arthur was jerking himself off when Merlin opened his eyes, and Merlin leaned down to help, whispering in his ear, "I'm thinking about getting a cock ring." Arthur choked and shuddered into orgasm, spilling over both their hands. 

 

43.

 

Winter had at last cast its frozen fingers into the land, bringing nightfall early to Camelot. As the days had shortened, so had the unspoken anticipation grown amongst them. Finally, tonight, on the year’s longest night, a new member would be initiated into their ranks. The initiate was one who deserved to join them the most, though he looked the least of them all a knight. 

It was time for Merlin to join them.

Gwaine walked ahead as they navigated the dark path, only their torches lighting their way. The hike served a dual purpose--to take them to the one place in Camelot with the privacy the ritual required, and to warm them for what lay ahead. Gwaine’s cock responded very well to that. 

Merlin knew only enough to understand the deep importance of the night to come. Gwaine had instructed him to be silent. Uncharacteristically, he’d obeyed.

At last they reached a stone house surrounded by a stone wall. The barest of light seeped through cloth-covered windows. Merlin’s eyes widened as he took in the boots, the chain mail, the other discarded clothing draped over the wall. 

“What--“

Gwaine raised his finger and shook his head. He pulled off his cape and tossed it over a branch, then leaned against the stone wall and pulled off his boots. Merlin watched, mouth agape. Gwaine set aside his sword, then yanked off his shirt and breeches, exposing his fully aroused cock to Merlin’s eyes. Merlin’s gulp was audible.

“Undress, then come inside.” 

Merlin glanced at the doorway. Gwaine winked at Merlin. “Don’t make your Prince wait.”

Merlin reached for the wall to brace himself. Gwaine chuckled.

He opened the door. Light, heat and the gleaming and sweaty naked bodies of his fellow knights beckoned. He breathed in their musty scent and near lost it then, his blood quickening, his mouth dry and his heart full with the power of it all. Leon and Percival, Elyan, Lancelot and their Prince to whom they swore their fealty -- heart, mind, and the very essence of their manhood they would share once more tonight -- nodded, eyes aglitter as he took in Gwaine’s nakedness. 

Gwaine could’ve come right then.

Gwaine took the spot next to Percival. He glanced down at the other knight’s thighs, admired his huge hand on his quite proportionate cock. A shiver passed through him though the cold he’d let in had already snuffed out. Percival closed his eyes and canted his head back, stroking himself. Gwaine’s cock weeped for release, but not yet.

He glanced up, caught his Sire’s eyes; the corner of his mouth quirked, and with a nod to them all, hand still firmly on his own cock, Arthur said, “Merlin. Come in.” 

The door opened.

To a man, those forming the circle were the epitome of the kingdom’s strength and power. Muscles rippled in the torchlight, each cock gorged and ready for release. The man who was to become one of them now was thin, his appearance weak, but he walked in with a bravado that Gwaine admired. He’d proven himself time and again to he who would be king. Though only Gwaine knew the true power behind those bright blue eyes, he knew their Prince believed Merlin had earned his right to be here for his faith, courage, and loyalty alone.

Merlin fell to his knees. His breath came out in ragged puffs, his thin cock as full as the rest of theirs were. As one they all moved closer to Merlin, nearly touching him, their bodies pressed against each other and Gwaine near lost it then. 

Arthur moved in front of Merlin and time drifted in the heat and the smell of sex as they followed their Prince. Hands moved on cocks, deep groans tore from desire-filled throats. Gwaine lost himself at last, his voice joining the others in a primal groan as he too released himself over Merlin, half-smiling over the shock in the former servant’s eyes as his face and chest and back were covered with the come of the Knights of the Round Table. 

His breath still labored, Arthur pulled Merlin to a stand. Eye to eye, Arthur closed his hand on Merlin’s cock and with a few quick, firm strokes brought Merlin to release. 

Arthur raised his hands to Merlin’s trembling shoulders. “Welcome. You are now, and forevermore, my Chosen.”

Then as one they surrounded Merlin and pulled him down into their welcoming midst.

 

44.

 

The forest blurs around Gwen as she races to catch Arthur’s modest lead. She can hear him laughing, a playful taunt for his slower companions. Gwen throws a smile over her shoulder where Merlin trails just behind her. 

The sound of their passing is absorbed by the trees — muffled under the silky grey mist that smudges the world around them into something quiet, dreamlike. 

She’s almost caught up to Arthur’s flank when he puts on a burst of speed to jump a fallen tree. Her mount follows his over, and she’s temporarily weightless, broad muscle shifting and bunching between her knees. She lands neatly in a ring of mushrooms about twenty meters across at its widest point. 

Arthur circles at the far edge, and when Gwen looks from the ring to his eyes she realises what they’ve done. Wet heat blooms in her gut, making her gasp. 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouts, listing in his saddle. “Stop!”

It’s too late — he’s already in the air, and when he touches ground the mushrooms glow white and they all cry out. Merlin falls from his horse and Gwen stumbles from hers, crawling to his side. 

“Merlin,” she says, checking for injuries. He shakes his head, dazed, catching her hand in his and squeezing. Arthur skids into Gwen’s side, and she flushes molten again — fierce like a summer fever. 

Her eyes are closed when she straightens, and Arthur’s hands on her jaw are a surprise. His mouth is a hot shock over hers. She whimpers, curving into him as if magnetised. 

Merlin grips her waist seconds before Arthur pulls away, snarling. Gwen experiences a moment of rigid fear when Arthur’s hand darts at Merlin, but his fist opens into a flat palm at the last second and Merlin sways, rapturous, when Arthur cups his neck. 

“Merlin,” Arthur hisses, pressing their foreheads together and _squeezing_ at his nape. 

“Merlin,” Gwen agrees, tugging at his tunic, desperate. He turns eagerly to her, his kiss just as hot as Arthur’s but infinitely softer, an unearthly luxury. Behind her, Arthur sets his teeth into her shoulder, a thread of sweet pain that makes her groin clench.

They are too urgent for finesse. They strip her of her riding trousers and shove their own down their thighs, crowding her between them. Arthur flattens a hand over her sternum before sheathing himself firmly in her cunt. Gwen chokes, gripping the curve of his hip to steady herself and reaching for Merlin when he hesitates before her. He’s hot as a brand in her palm, and they’re both sweaty and masculine and _good_ around her, but the pinch of hunger she feels in her belly is mirrored on Merlin’s face, echoed in Arthur’s frantic thrusting. 

“It’s not enough,” she says, panting into Arthur’s neck. “Not enough.”

“I know,” he groans. 

“Merlin,” she says, pulling him forward. “Merlin, please.”

“Oh,” Merlin says, cockhead nudging at the curve of Arthur’s prick where it slides into her. 

“Fuck, Merlin!” Arthur’s fingers tighten on her hips and Gwen whines, hunching until Merlin finally pushes and they’re both there, inside her, clumsy with their combined girth She keens, shaking between them, winning gentle touches that are more electrifying than soothing. 

Arthur grunts; Merlin appears speechless for a long moment, until the breaths he’s noising against Gwen’s throat resolve into a babble of praise: _such a beautiful hot, tight cunt, can you feel us both? Gwen — I, I feel him; want you to suck me and tell me you taste him on my cock, Gwen— I—_

And Gwen is screaming, rocking down on them both, clawing lines down Merlin’s back and clinging to Arthur’s neck as they fuck her through it, the pleasure so bright it burns. It leaves her limp, blinking up into Merlin’s eyes, the way they startle wide when he begins to come, all hitching, helpless noises as he drives deep. 

He falls back on his heels after he slips free, looking pale as a sheet, watching Arthur over her shoulder. She pulls his mouth to hers, biting at his lips, as much a distraction as it is reassurance. 

Arthur rides her like he means to breed her, breath gusting hard through his nose until he stutters to a stop, gritting “Gwen,” through his teeth. 

On instinct she pushes Merlin down onto his back, feeling sweetly hollow and oddly calm holding him steady by the hair at his nape. Arthur climbs carefully over Merlin’s chest and his hand joins Gwen’s on Merlin’s face just before he shoots a spray of come over his ripe, pink mouth.

 

45.

 

Arthur had denied to do it, but it had been of no use.

The boy —because that’s what he was, a slave boy— had followed Bayard’s orders, and despite the circumstances, their surroundings, and a million reasons Arthur could think of so as not to have to do this, Merlin— they had said he was called as soon as he had been thrust upon Arthur as a gift— had practically forced himself on Arthur not a moment later.

Merlin had pinned Arthur to the bed inside the tent, tied Arthur’s wrists above his head with the muddy cloth that had been previously wrapped around his neck, and then had crawled down over Arthur’s body, lowered his breeches with a single pull, and engulfed Arthur’s cock eagerly into his mouth.

Arthur had objected again then, attempted to sit up straight on the bed, but Merlin had shoved him back down with a hand to his chest, had said, “Lie down and let me. I am here to please you, and the only sounds I want coming out of your mouth are those of pleasure.”

And Arthur had been more than prepared to protest again, because a mere slave was _not_ in any position to give Arthur, the King, any orders, even though the picture they must have made could suggest otherwise, but the retort had died on his lips the moment his blood had rushed southwards as his dick was developed in a wet tight heat.

The boy wasn’t very gracious but he was more skilled than Arthur would have imagined, despite his early age, and he sucked at Arthur’s cock as if he had been born for that task only. He furrowed his bow and concentrated solely on drawing of Arthur as much pleasure as possible, making him grow hard in no time.

Taking a small jar of oil from his jacket pocket, Merlin divested himself from his clothes until he was straddling Arthur’s thighs, completely nude, and then unashamedly poured the oil onto Arthur's dick and smeared it behind himself. As Arthur watched Merlin work, he mused how he should be the one in control here, and not have a slave manhandling him around. How he should grab a hold of the boy, plant him facepalm on the mattress and fuck him dry. But then, he wouldn't say it aloud, but it was exhilarating for once to leave the hard work to someone else.

Merlin's moves, although a bit mechanic, made Arthur hot, and when he supported his weight with one hand on Arthur's chest and then impaled himself down on Arthur's dick, Arthur forgot about thinking altogether.

Merlin had not the body of a man as of yet, but he was appealing in his own way, he was easy on the eye when you looked at him more than once, and the rocking of his hips was sensual for a boy; Arthur could see why Bayard would lay with a young lad like Merlin.

He moved like he wanted it, but Arthur could see it was all an act. Merlin's cock wasn't hard, but considering it wasn't entirely flaccid either, Arthur decided to stimulate it and see what happened. He swung his arms from above his head down to rest over his chest, and then used his cupped hands tied by the neckerchief to fist the boy's dick in between his palms. Merlin, taken aback, flickered his eyes to Arthur, but his rhythm barely faltered as his cock rubbed up and down firmly under Arthur's touch, swelling against his will at the attention.

Maybe Arthur wasn't completely in control, and maybe he didn't knew the kind of men Merlin lied with, but he would not like to be one more of them. He started to meet Merlin's thrusts, and smiled inwardly at the look in the boy's face, at the reactions of his body, the change of his breathing, that soon dragged Arthur closer to orgasm.

When it happened, and Arthur spilled inside the boy, Merlin didn't stop hitching his hips, the same way he had not when his dick had suddenly pulsed in Arthur's touch; when he had shut his eyes and bit his lips, and his whole body had gone taut and tense in Arthur's arms. Arthur's hands were wet with Merlin's come, but as soon as Merlin freed him, he didn't waste time, he bowed his head and licked Arthur's fingers clean, in a way that, if Arthur could, would have had him hardening again.

The next morning, after a long heated conversation with Bayard, Arthur took the boy home with him.

 

46.

 

Arthur’s fingers are sweating on the cold floor; his knees might be, too.

‘Father,’ he says, uncertain, and a warm hand covers his neck, pushes him down almost gently. He follows, because disobeying orders is what gets people killed; Arthur’s learned that the hard way, washing too many bloodstains off his hands when he should have been playing footy with his mates. 

Being a demon hunter involves a lot of relentless training, but this drill is a little out of the ordinary, even for them. Still, he’d agreed to it. But then he hadn’t realised which incubus his father intended to use. 

‘ _Well?_ ’ says Uther, standing up, never one for patience in the face of evil (or, let’s be honest, in the face of anything other than a stiff scotch). 

‘What, this is it? A cellar? After three months in a bottle-sized prison, I would at least expect a downy bed. And room service. Possibly a Jacuzzi, but I’m willing to negotiate.’ Arthur doesn’t need to see Uther to feel his surprise. ‘What do you think, Arthur?’ Merlin adds.

Arthur closes his eyes. He really should have lied a little harder about how easily he’d captured this particular demon. ‘Seriously, shut up and get on with it,’ he mutters. He’s never met a demon this talkative. Ever.

‘Oh, yes, we shouldn’t disappoint daddy, now should we, Arthur?’ Merlin says, amused. ‘You’re such a good boy.’ 

Arthur flushes, abruptly and deeply, and turns around, rising up – 

‘ _Arthur_ ,’ his father says, ‘control yourself.’ And then Uther’s crouching, pressing Arthur’s forehead against his soft leather shoe, keeping him steady. Arthur’s throat closes up, unexpectedly, and he focusses on breathing. 

‘You know, if you let your son get out and have some fun every once in a while, he might actually have a sense of humour. I’m reasonably sure he’s got one, somewhere. In fact, he might also be less receptive to this.’ 

Arthur wants to wring Merlin’s neck for bringing up his sexual inexperience in front of his father (seriously, once you know about demons, it’s really hard to trust anyone), and he’s not quite prepared for the sensation of something firm and a little rough sweeping its way up his thigh. And Arthur hates Merlin, he really does (he has hated demons since the day he learned his mother died protecting him from one), but he hates even more that part of him doesn’t hate this at all. 

And some incubi are good at manipulating minds, but Merlin seems to read his every thought. It’s very annoying. He feels Merlin’s smile brush his mind; realises that the cellar with the runes disappeared and they’re on a soft, four-poster bed, and that’s definitely Merlin’s tongue licking at the vulnerable inside of his thighs, and when teeth sink in, Arthur viciously bites down on a moan, his cock already growing heavy. 

_Cheat_ , he thinks, willing Merlin to hear, holding very still under the weight of his father’s hand. ‘Daddy’s boy,’ Merlin says, and Arthur doesn’t think of that night, of all the things Merlin learned about him, couldn’t shut up about – everything, his whole life, Arthur has no secrets left to give. Arthur isn’t quite sure how he made it out alive, how he won in the moment he should have died (he doesn’t, except there was that second he felt his loneliness echoed back at him, so thick he almost couldn’t breathe). 

He’s supposed to pay attention to the way Merlin is warping his mind, so gives into it, pleasure sharp everywhere in his body as Merlin continues sucking bruises just below his balls, where his skin is most sensitive. Magic tentacles sweep over his lower stomach, his nipples, along his spine, reminding him of the hand at his neck, steadying, firm, and Christ, that shouldn’t turn him on, but. ‘It’s OK,’ Merlin murmurs, because he’s a fucking demon, and that’s probably his job.

‘It’s OK,’ Merlin repeats against his skin, and Arthur’s body has gone pliant against his will, or so he tells himself, and he realises suddenly that this is going to be his life, Uther never does these exercises just once, they’ll be doing this over and over.

‘Please, it’s OK, I’ve got you,’ Merlin almost whines, like he _cares_ , the liar, and fucking nuzzles at the top of his spine, licks where his father’s hand touches his skin. 

‘ _Such a good boy._ ’

And Arthur comes, untouched, and he is absolutely certain that Merlin might not be able to take his life here, but he’ll kill Arthur just the same. 

 

47.

 

Tears cloud his vision but Merlin doesn’t bother wiping them away.

He blindly navigates the school, his only goal to put as much space between him and the locker room as possible. He doesn’t care who sees him, doesn’t see the point in caring. By the end of the day, they’ll all know, anyways. Everyone will be gossiping about the way he’d –

In front of _everyone_. His face heats up, his hands shaking at his sides, and it only gets worse when a voice from behind calls, “ _Merlin_!”

Panic wells in his chest and he doesn’t even think, just starts running. He can’t face Arthur. Not after what he did; probably not ever again.

He makes it to the art room – blessedly empty – but Arthur catches up before Merlin can bar the door. It slams shut behind him and then Merlin is suddenly against it, unable to get away. He struggles, anyways, of course, but it’s pointless. Arthur isn’t a star athlete for nothing; he easily thwarts every escape attempt until he somehow gets Merlin’s wrists pinned against the wood.

“Let go!” Merlin tries to kick at him but Arthur thwarts that, too, and of course he doesn’t listen.

“Merlin! _Calm down_.”

The tone is similar to Arthur’s captain voice but it’s somehow more. This isn’t just a captain talking to his player. It’s not a classmate talking to his equal.

This is a Dom – _Merlin’s Dom_ – giving an order and Merlin is helpless to disobey. He stops struggling immediately, relaxing until only Arthur’s strength is keeping him upright. Arthur hums, so obviously pleased.

“You bastard,” Merlin whispers, humiliation burning hot in his chest again.

The first time had been an accident, Merlin’s sure of it, but Arthur knows now. He knows and he’s still doing it; using Merlin’s own instincts against him.

“Hush,” Arthur says gently, nuzzling at his jaw.

It feels unimaginably good and Merlin finds himself whining, baring his throat to give Arthur better access. With their bodies pressed together, Arthur’s warmth seeping into him, it’s hard to remember why he wants to fight; why he would want to do anything but submit and give himself over to Arthur’s care.

“You didn’t give me a chance,” Arthur says apropos of nothing. He pushes a thigh against Merlin’s erection, nosing at the outer-shell of his ear. “I knew, you know, the first time I saw you. I knew you were mine.”

His teeth scrape across sensitive skin and Merlin gasps, hips jerking forward. The friction makes him moan and Arthur, encouraged, licks over the same spot. The sound that escapes Merlin probably isn’t human but he’s too turned on to care and Arthur seems to like it, anyways.

“I knew,” Arthur repeats, “but I waited. I wanted you to come to me. To choose me. And you just…in front of everyone. But then you ran. You didn’t give me a chance.”

The reminder is like a bucket of cold water, bringing Merlin back to reality. He tries to turn away, to hide, but Arthur doesn’t let him. His hand cups Merlin’s cheek, forcing him to look at Arthur again.

Those blue eyes hold no mockery, like Merlin was so afraid of when he ran from the locker room. _Pride_ stares back at him and it leaves him breathless.

“You were good,” Arthur assures him quietly. “You were my good boy and now everyone knows it.”

Merlin always knew that he’d need affection, reassurance. He never thought of anyone saying those words to him, though, calling him a good boy. He never thought he’d like it.

He does. It does things to him, being told that he’s Arthur’s good boy. For the first time since Arthur caught him, he reaches for his Dom, clinging as he chokes out, “ _Arthur_.”

Arthur understands. He closes the distance between them, kissing Merlin roughly as his hands fall to Merlin’s waist, holding him tight as his thigh rubs hard against Merlin’s erection. The pressure is exquisite; Merlin whines, letting Arthur take over the kiss as Arthur uses his grip to roll Merlin’s hips against him.

Everything is out of his control, all Merlin can do is hold on as Arthur takes him apart and he _loves it_. He’s already so close, just from Arthur’s words and his teasing, and it feels mere seconds have gone by before he’s whining into Arthur’s mouth, begging.

Arthur pulls away, setting his mouth right against Merlin’s ear, growling as he commands, “Come.”

Merlin gasps and does.

 

48.

 

Arthur first sees him in the pouring rain while waiting on his bus to arrive. The man is running down the sidewalk, water splashing around his trainers. His dark hair is plastered to his head, and his t-shirt is completely soaked through.

What grabs Arthur's attention most is the dragon tattoo on his left arm. It snakes up, wrapping around from wrist to elbow, disappearing beneath his sleeve, and almost looks alive.

Lightning flashes just as the man looks up at him, and for a second, his eyes seem to glow golden hot.

He disappears around a corner, and Arthur is left breathless in the rain.

*

He sees the man again at the grocer's, and this time he notices the small black rod through his earlobe. There's another tattoo peaking above the collar of his t-shirt, leading to his long, pale neck.

Arthur takes a step forward but the man turns onto another aisle. By the time Arthur reaches it, he's gone.

*

The third time, Arthur gets a name.

He's standing in line at his favorite coffee shop when he looks up to see the same man two people ahead of him. Anticipation and nervousness shiver through him, and he doesn't know what he's doing until he does it. As soon as the man has his coffee and is headed towards the door, Arthur steps out of line and into his path.

The man stops and just stares at him, as though he'd been expecting it.

"Sorry," Arthur says. "But I noticed your tattoos, and – and I was thinking about getting one myself. I don't want to end up regretting it, so I was wondering if you could recommend a shop?"

The man smiles, slow and knowing, and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a business card and hands it over.

"Come by tomorrow," he says, and is out the door before Arthur can respond.

Arthur looks down at the card. _Merlin's Magical Tattoos and Piercings_ , it reads.

He memorizes the address and then carefully tucks it into his wallet.

*

The shop is small but clean, and when Arthur walks through the door the man is the only one there.

"So are you Merlin?" Arthur asks, leaning against the front counter.

"I am." Merlin smiles. "Do you still want that tattoo?"

Arthur reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sketch he'd drawn the night before. "On my hip."

Merlin eyes the sketch and nods, letting out a breath. "Okay. Follow me."

*

The dragon is small, different than the one on Merlin's arm. It's more like an emblem, deep red and gold, like it's made from the embers of a long-forgotten fire.

Merlin mouths over it, long fingers splayed against Arthur's hips. He looks up, wicked mischief in his eyes, and bites at the skin just above it. Arthur groans, arching his back, and buries one hand in Merlin's hair.

"Stop teasing," he murmurs, and Merlin laughs.

His mouth is hot and wet as it envelops Arthur's cock, taking him down to the base. Arthur closes his eyes and twists his free hand in Merlin's sheets, trying not to thrust. Merlin pulls off, licking at the head, and then crawls up into Arthur's lap. He's still open and wet from earlier, and as he sinks down Arthur drags him into a deep, lazy kiss.

Merlin tangles their fingers together, and Arthur feels like he's finally whole.

*

He's waiting for the bus when the bottom falls out, rain pouring down and soaking him through.

Arthur turns his face up to the sky and smiles.

 

49.

 

Arthur locks the stable doors, and steps across the flagstones to the open area where the tack is kept, where he can already hear murmuring and soft laughter. He peeks, anticipation already tightening his gut. 

Sitting on a pile of blankets against the wall is Percival, shirtless, smiling, with Merlin in his arms, twisted-up and kissing. Gwaine walks on his hands and knees over the blanket pile to straddle the pair of them, and the kiss becomes heated, more complicated - lips bitten, tongues sliding to soothe and taste the little noises that eke out. Merlin is clutching the other two, a fierce delight on his face, and he rocks between them shamelessly.

Arthur, silent in the doorway, has to palm himself at the sight, even this early on. Merlin has always had this effect on him.

By the time they're bare, Arthur has his cock in hand, trying to keep control. Gwaine and Percival have Merlin spread out between them, sharing him - so that every move he makes in reaction to one is caught and turned to pleasure by the other. He moans, breathy, gulping back what noise he can but unable to stop all of it. Percival's fingers slide slick-slip-wet in and out, Gwaine bracing Merlin to stop his writhing from narrowing the space between his thighs, and as Arthur watches Percival adds another finger. 

Surely four of Percival's fingers should be too much for anyone to take, but Merlin is panting, trying to get leverage to take _more_. Percival's eyes are blown black, wide, utterly focused on the task of preparation, and Gwaine is stroking himself with Merlin's head almost in his lap where he kneels on the blankets, free arm stretched to hold Merlin still. 

Merlin nudges closer, and mouths at Gwaine's cock. Arthur has to bite his cheek to keep from making noise. Gwaine sweetly cups Merlin's face, holding him steady to do as he pleases. Percival makes a deep rumbling noise, hoisting Merlin up onto his knees and pulling his fingers free.

'What do you want?' Percival asks Merlin. Gently, with Gwaine's help, he pulls Merlin free from his occupation. Strings of fluid shine like crystal for a moment between Merlin's plush bottom lip and the head of Gwaine's cock, and then Merlin's gasp breaks them free. 'Tell us,' Percival pushes, fondness in his tone laced with heat, lust. 

'You could let him fuck you,' Gwaine suggests. 'Let me take you after, fill you up twice.'

'No,' Merlin grits out, licking the red, stretched corners of his mouth. 'You - I won't last,' he pants. His head hangs low for a moment, then he looks up. In the straw-dusty air cut with shadows and stripes of brilliant morning sun, he's haloed like some carnal parody of an angel. 'Both of you,' he says hungrily. 'Take me together, _please_.'

Arthur can't help his strangled groan, but the three he's watching are too caught up in each other to notice, it seems. Percival's fingers, still slick and wet with liniment, are already seeking and stretching Merlin further, as Gwaine pushes him to kneel back into Percival's space, kisses his face frantically. 

When Percival slides home, Merlin's face breaks into a sweet, satisfied happiness, and his fingers tremble and clench on Gwaine's shoulders. When Gwaine adds his own fingers, then kneels up and enters Merlin completely, Merlin seems to melt against Percival's broad chest. 

They cradle him, push him, and he takes it so beautifully Arthur is left breathless at the sight, finally touching himself the way he wants. He is rough with himself, watching how Gwaine and Percival kiss and thrust together, such glorious teamwork, starting to unravel as their pleasure spikes. 

Merlin comes first, wet, gorgeous, seeming-slow, shaking to pieces. Then Gwaine and Percival, and Arthur can't make out the sequence of things any more, too taken up with his own overwhelming need, stripping his cock furiously. Everything narrows down to light, shadow, the slick shine of Merlin's release over the softness of skin, and Arthur reaches his peak and has to hang onto the doorframe to prevent himself from falling to his knees, overwhelmed. 

When he comes back to himself, they are dressed, filing past him as if they had only met here innocently to groom their mounts. Merlin winks at him, last in line, and his hand slides across Arthur's bare, besmirched belly. He licks his fingers as he walks away. 

 

50.

 

_Necrophiliac love: the only sort that is pure._ —Wittkop, The Necrophiliac

 

“Another necrophilic abuse discovered! Grave Robber Special!”

The headline claims to reveal more than the article actually does (“…abuse relates largely to another group of corpses of young- to middle-aged men”) but it’s pathetic they don’t have more by now, really, two years and three months into it. Merlin can fill them in: the men and boys were all blond and blue-eyed in life, with either a reputation for arrogance or professional athleticism.

“ _Inhumane_ crime series,” he reads, snorts, tossing the paper into a garbage bin, revolted. Precisely this is why it won’t work; he’s got to be extra careful they won’t catch him. Were would he be if they did, he, the _oh_ so vile monster?

“Inhumane,” he mutters, making his way home, the anger dissipating with each step (excitement growing, hot and fast). He sheds his clothes, stepping into the naturally cool basement, and gives himself to his latest companion. “Inhumane,” he repeats, softer, as he lies on the stretcher to wrap his limbs around the icy calmness of Joseph’s, thumbing along Joseph’s dry, pale lips.

No magic, tonight. Just the comfort of a handsome man who could’ve been him but isn’t. No cock, mouth or fingers, either. Merlin’s just indulgent, tonight, to the both of them.

He tries to still the weltschmerz each of his breaths are bleeding by being _inhumane_ , giving love and comfort to whom the humane ones robbed of his worth with the loss of his life, tossing him away like garbage. 

-

After Merlin scoured the surface of the earth (decades, centuries, a millenium) and didn’t find him, he began looking underground, because:

_“You’ll be there, should I need you.”_

_“I will?”_

_“You will.”_

Words so old, and Merlin swore to make them true. He remembers too much to sleep well, too little to recognise.

That’s okay, though. He feels he’ll know the moment when it’s there.

-

And there it is at last, the eighth after Joseph. It feels unreal when it happens, Merlin’s waited so long.

He brims with barely restrained anticipation stirring low and potent in his belly as he slides his hands up the calves, soft with the loss of muscle through begun decay—soft, supple to knead between his fingers, doughy. This one’s promising. Merlin’s blood sings with it as his eyes trace the unique jaw bone: strong and square, yet strangely soft, rounded. He’s promising. Special. Special. His hands, big and capable, lie with the palms upturned, the left wrist showing the bandage of a successfully slit wrist.

_Suicide_ , Merlin remembers hearing at the funeral, _and a letter proclaiming he needed to find someone._

Death is as attached to this man as Merlin becomes as he erratically begins filling the supple, virgin hole between those plump cheeks: death has made him even more beautiful, angelic, like a Greek statue of wax dipped in blue-grey ash, held over fire, beginning to melt as the eyes and cheeks sink.

Merlin wants to give this man everything: wants to make him full he won’t bloat from decomposition but Merlin himself, and he lets his eyelids flutter close, holding onto those still, still legs—watches the static body being jostled, head banging back against the stretcher with the delicious sound of utter passivity, an irregular _thump, thump, thump._

Merlin wants to make him so full and he does: magic bleeds in tears from his lids and spills in endearments from his mouth, and there’s a second cock like his own prodding at the man’s flesh, stretching it wide and obscene. The further it gapes open the more it of that sour milk-rotten flesh odour that incenses Merlin’s guts like wildfire. Merlin lets his magic fuck furiously inside while he snaps his hips hard, fast, deep, spearing him with the heat of his two cocks, seeking to suffuse the ice-insides with a sliver of life.

The thudding grows louder, the man’s head snapping sickly back and forth like a doll’s, hole stretching impossibly around Merlin, accommodating, loving. The pleasure of it burns white behind Merlin’s eyes—his hips tilt—stutter—shove—halt—

And when he spills and gives his life inside, Merlin knows it’s _him_ : the head snaps up suddenly, a hoarse voice saying, “I’ve found you,” and as the man’s eyes snap open, they trap Merlin in a sky of blue. 

“Arthur,” he breathes, remembering at last.

 

51.

 

Nearly two weeks underway, they still hadn’t quite reached their destination, and Gwaine found himself stuck with guard duty in the small village where they had taken up refuge for the night. Finding this all extremely unfair, Gwaine was left awake and painfully anxious, trying to work out how he could manage a wank without leaving Arthur’s sleeping place undefended. What bothered him still more was the knowledge that even if he did somehow manage to obtain some privacy, it wouldn’t be enough to soothe that sore need. Percival was a good friend, and every now and then he’d oblige Gwaine and let him tag along when Percival left the tavern back in Camelot with a girl. After all, it wasn’t as if Gwaine would get in the way, he’d just watch from the sidelines. His needs were quite simple, really. …Except when they were camped out here in no man’s land.

After enough discomfort, Gwaine decided to seek whatever relief he could. After looking around to make sure the narrow village streets were still just as quiet as they had been all night, he quietly ducked into the doorway of the tiny house he’d been guarding. There was a small alcove just inside the door, blocked off from the bigger room where Arthur slept, Merlin along with him.

But Gwaine’s hand paused before it could reach its mark, when he heard a sound come from the larger room inside. When he heard it again, instinctive concern erupted in Gwaine’s mind. The soft, low groan made him worry whether both Arthur and Merlin were still well and safe, and he moved farther inside to make sure.

One small, quick step was all he needed to see into the small room past the doorway, half-lit by moonlight trickling in through the single window. Two beds nearly filled up the tiny room, and two figures stood at the opposite side of the nearer bed. Even shrouded in shadows, Gwaine could make out the familiar dark mop of Merlin’s hair and the lanky form of his body where it was pressed over the bed. It wasn’t hard to tell he was naked, and he was completely pinned between the edge of the bed and the tall, broad form of Arthur behind him. The moonlight illuminated his ringed hand gripping Merlin’s hips with enough force to hold him in place. His mussed, sweaty blonde hair flopped over his forehead as his head stayed tilted downwards, towards where he gave rushed, sharp movements that pressed Merlin farther and tighter against the bed and wrung the same low, wrecked sounds from him that Gwaine had mistaken for something much, much different. 

Merlin and Arthur’s gasping, panting breaths combined to fill the room with heavy, humid air that Gwaine felt settling against him and then reaching down to the most desperate, private place deep within him. Arthur threw his head back, his lips clutching around a soundless exclamation, and that place inside Gwaine clenched almost painfully. Gwaine’s hand was urgently working his own member before he’d consciously given it permission, while he watched Merlin’s body pressed farther forward by Arthur’s hand and his reckless, focused strength. Merlin’s body bowed against the shape of the bed, consumed and dominated.

There was a brief moment as Arthur’s head lowered again, when Gwaine thought his eyes may have found him lurking there. For a brief, searing moment, Gwaine thought their gazes met, but Arthur’s momentum didn’t falter. Just as quickly, Merlin fell into gasping and writing, clutching the bed sheets as his climax spilled over the blankets. Arthur’s head dipped towards Merlin, his harsh breath against the back of the other man’s neck, and his movements slowed just enough to let Merlin shift in his hold. A few seconds later Gwaine was stripping his own cock in a near frenzy, as one of Merlin’s legs hooked up around Arthur and Arthur’s hands held their now face-to-face bodies together, and Merlin made a high, desperate sound that Gwaine could guess meant Arthur was inside him again. As Gwaine’s peak rushed up fast, the tiny semblance of sense remaining yanked him back from the doorway in case he made any noise when it happened. The last thing he saw were Merlin’s fingers clamping in Arthur’s hair as Arthur’s mouth claimed the base of his neck. The first thing Gwaine thought after the most satisfying orgasm he could remember in a long time – So that’s why Merlin wears neck scarves every day.

 

52.

 

The pain meds dulled things enough so Merlin didn't care how he managed to be where he was, which was good considering his mom sat vigil next to him for the last few hours. 

"Didn't need to come. " Merlin slurred out. Did he mention the drugs were good?

"My son's injured in hospital. Of Course I'll sit with him." His mom flinched at her choice of words before continuing. "Besides I had to verify this young man of yours."

Merlin smiled at her, not acknowledging the inappropriate balloon bouncing behind her head. "An accident mom."

"I know." She petted his arm like he spoke silliness for trying to convince her. "Anyone who fusses that much over you, isn't going to hurt you on purpose. I just wish you both had been more careful."

_  
"Damn it. Don't stop." Merlin's skirt had been hiked up his thighs, and the boxer briefs pulled low. Dirty filthy sex in the back hall of Avalon wasn't today's agenda, but he wasn't complaining. Or rather, he was complaining about the blond idiot who stopped rubbing himself against Merlin for unknown idiot reasons._

_"Bossy for serving wench. Aren't you?" The blond pinched Merlin's arse, pulling him close again._

_"And you're a big tease for a pratty git, but we can't all be perfect." Merlin rolled his hips enjoying the bare skin against the most supple leather trousers in existence._

_"I thought I heard something. I was trying to defend your honor." The blond smirked and went back to his very impressive grinding._

_"You can look out for it after you bend me over this table." Merlin countered._

_"Aww. I wanted to blow you." The man whispered and nibbled at Merlin's ear in that way that made toes tingle. "Never thought I'd be able to suck a serving wench's cock. Seems like a shame to miss the opportunity."_

_Merlin moaned a little louder than intended at the idea of a blond head buried under his skirt, then winked at the security camera._

_When Merlin stilled a second at the thought of getting a copy, the blond took the opportunity to drop to his knees. A hot set of well kissed lips wrapped around the tip of Merlin's leaking cock and sucked so hard Merlin's brain moved. The hover feeling only lasted long enough for Merlin to stop caring about the cameras and start caring about the steady licks and wanton little slurping sounds of a man who loved to suck cock. Maybe even professionally? Because god it felt so good when those lips reached the base and the tip was swallowed down. No one had ever…"Fuck. I'm going to come."_

_The man pulled off slow and horsely declared "Not yet." before shifting Merlin's backside further up on the table and raising his legs up off the floor. The briefs discarded, Merlin's legs spread far enough for the man to tongue and suck at Merlin's balls, and just lower. Fuck, tightening and loosening quivering skin being pulled and stretched by exploring lips, and all Merlin could see of what was happening was the ripple of a head below a skirt._

_Merlin shifted back so more of his weight would be on the small tarp covered table, and perhaps so that this man's tongue could work even lower, to open him up for a good proper exploration.  
_

Merlin stared at the 'I'll kiss it better' balloon, no doubt from Gwaine. "It's backside survivor's guilt."

The blond walked in with a cup for Merlin's mom. 

That was nice of him.

"Why are you still here? I don't even know your name?" Merlin said his thoughts out loud. He did say the drugs were good. Right?

"Merlin!" His mom tapped his arm in admonishment.

Out of his leather and into scrubs, the gorgeous blond held out his hand, "I'm Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin smiled. "Nice to meet you. I'd get up but I fell through a glass table." 

He had five stitches in the right cheek, and currently laid with his barely covered arse in the air.

Arthur's eyes darted quickly between the balloons and the bandaged parts of Merlin before stoically clearing his throat. "I'm sure you'll feel better soon." 

Mom had the decency to hide her snorting giggle at Arthur's red flush, Merlin didn't.

 

53.

 

The pavement is hard against Merlin’s knees, but he can’t stop—doesn’t _want_ to stop—with Arthur’s fingers digging into his hair, urging him on. Merlin pushes back, opening his mouth to take Arthur’s cock in deeper. He drags his nails down Arthur’s thighs, feeling them shake with the effort to keep still under his touch.

Club music pounds from the brick wall behind them, loud enough that Merlin can feel the bass vibrating in his breastbone. It’s still not enough to drown out the rushing in his ears. In the dim light he can’t make out Arthur’s face, but he doesn’t have to. He knows what Arthur looks like when Merlin’s mouth is on him: eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth open and slack as he pants desperately for air.

The back door to the club creaks open noisily, and Arthur freezes, his muscle tensing up. Light from the club beams out in a wide swath, missing them by a few feet. They know this game too well to be caught. Someone steps out from the club and lights a cigarette, the end glowing orange in the light. Arthur doesn’t move. Merlin stays silent but keeps moving, keeps working his mouth over Arthur’s cock.

“Shit shit shit,” Arthur says hoarsely, groaning and biting hard on his knuckle to stifle the sounds he’s making. His voice is just loud enough to reach Merlin’s ears and no more. 

The smell of smoke wafts over. They’re still in the shadows, too far away for anyone to see them unless someone looked right at them. Or only if someone knew where to look. Being caught is never part of the plan, but plans sometimes go awry, and this drives Merlin harder. The thrill of being caught—of being caught _with Arthur_ —sets his blood thrumming. He presses a slow kiss to the underside of Arthur’s cock, feeling Arthur’s hands tighten in his hair. He swallows Arthur down as deep as he can go, keeping him there in his mouth until the smoker stubs out his cigarette and wrenches the back door open again in a screech of metal. The flash of light as the door opens illuminates Arthur’s face: broken, wrecked, and desperate with the need to come.

Merlin draws his mouth away. He pulls back, settling onto his heels to look up at Arthur. He waits.

“Come _here_ ,” Arthur says as soon as the door is closed, his voice throaty and raw. Merlin is hauled up by his shirt, Arthur’s grip shaky and uncoordinated as Merlin gets to his feet. Arthur stares at Merlin for a moment, his throat working soundlessly, and then kisses him with no finesse, just a raw scraping of his mouth against Merlin’s. 

Merlin breaks away first, panting softly, their breaths mingling as he touches their foreheads together. He kisses Arthur once more, soft and gentle, and feels Arthur’s knees buckle beneath them. Merlin eases out of Arthur’s grip to place his hands on Arthur’s hips. Merlin turns him to face the brick wall, Arthur’s body moving easily under his hands. Merlin steps close, pressing them together, and wraps a hand around Arthur’s cock, jerking him off hard and fast. 

“Merlin, oh _fuck_ ,” Arthur moans, arching back against him, forgetting to stifle his noise. It all falls away from him when he’s close—even the risk of being caught—and nothing else matters to Merlin right now than catching Arthur after he falls apart.

“Come on, Arthur. Let go,” Merlin says quietly, his chest against Arthur’s back, lips brushing the back of Arthur’s neck. “I’ve got you.”

Merlin feels Arthur shivers at the sound of his voice. He keeps stroking him and stroking him, pulling it all out of him until Arthur comes, giving it all over.

 

54.

 

A familiar voice wakes Arthur up. He groans and turns on his back, meeting the court physician’s annoyed gaze.

“Gaius?”

“Come on, Merlin, you’ll be late again.”

Arthur frowns, sits up and suddenly his brain takes his surroundings in. He’s in Merlin’s small room, in his small bed. He looks at his bony fingers and runs them through his unruly hair. His breath catches as he realizes… he’s in Merlin’s small body, as well. He stares at Gaius for a second before dropping back on the bed with a sigh.

“No sleeping in, Merlin. Get up and eat your breakfast, Arthur will—”

“I know,” Arthur says sternly, but startles as it’s not his own voice he hears. He clears his throat and tries again, his tone a little softer than before. “I’ll go to Arthur right away,” he says as he throws the covers off himself and looks around for a change of clothes.

“No breakfast?”

“No breakfast,” Arthur confirms. Merlin deserves to find himself in a starving body when he fixes that mess of his. 

Arthur ignores Gaius’ further protests and walks out of the physician’s quarters as soon as he’s dressed, almost running to his own chambers. He slams the doors open and shut as he strides in.

“What have you done this time— Merlin?” 

“I-I can explain,” Merlin stutters.

Arthur’s frozen at the foot of his bed. It’s weird enough to see his own body spread out on the bed, flushed and sweating, cock in hand, but hearing his own voice pitched so high and breathless… it’s a tad too much.

“Do so, then,” Arthur demands. Merlin bites his lip.

“I’ve had a bit of a... misunderstanding with my magic, it appears.”

“How so?”

“I was... thinking, last night.” Merlin blushes. Arthur suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at both what thinking actually meant and how ridiculous is Merlin making him look. “About...”

“Speak, Merlin. We don’t have all day.”

“About wanting to see you,” Merlin blurts out. 

“And?”

“My magic gave me the opportunity to... feel you, instead,” he says and squeezes his – Arthur’s – cock lightly. 

“How is that even possible? Are you not in control of your own magic? You know you have to be careful—”

“I know! Do you think I’m an idiot?” Merlin spits out indignantly. Arthur raises an eyebrow and Merlin groans, letting himself sink in the pillows. “I can fix it. I just woke up here and...”

“Decided to seize the opportunity.” Merlin doesn’t answer. “Go on, then.” At that, Merlin raises his head and looks at him quizzically. “Seize it.”

Merlin hesitates for a second. His hand creeps back to his cock and he tugs slowly, looking at Arthur. Arthur licks his lips and Merlin lets out a breath he’s been holding in.

“That’s so… strange,” Arthur says, his – Merlin’s – voice sounding a bit huskier than he’s intended.

“Figures you’d get all hot and bothered by watching yourself,” Merlin says and his wicked grin pulls oddly on Arthur’s features.

“Can you blame me?” Arthur asks as he grabs the board of the bed and leans forward, his gaze following the slide of Merlin’s hand on his cock. “Look at what you did,” he motions forward and back to himself, “just by picturing me.”

Merlin whimpers quietly and his hand starts moving faster. Arthur walks around and sits next to him, brushing a few golden strands off his face. He then traces his own lips with a finger and lets out a small moan as Merlin sucks it in.

“So, so strange,” he whispers again as he adds another finger and fucks his mouth, thinking that that’s what he looks like when he sucks on Merlin’s cock. He removes the fingers and leans in for a kiss, hesitating only for a second before he lets their lips meet.

The kiss is both familiar and not. He’s not used to nibbling on his own lips, but the stuttering breath he feels against his mouth is so very Merlin. He licks into his mouth and lets his wet fingers circle a nipple, knowing it’s just what sets him off. Merlin moans in the kiss and Arthur feels his hips rising off the bed rhythmically as he rides his orgasm out.

“I’ll fix this,” Merlin whispers once he’s caught his breath.

“Not yet,” Arthur replies before unlacing his breeches.

 

55.

 

He’d seen his father with his bed slave. 

Uther is older now, not the warrior he once was, but still taut with muscle and virile, as he’d pounded into that pale arse, each thrust punctuated by a _squelch_.

Arthur had not known the meaning of _wanting_ until then. He’d stayed, watching, until his father had come with a cry, the boy—Merlin—trembling underneath and making soft, whining animal noises.

He’d fled, and for three weeks after, he fucked his fist with the stark memory of that mouth--flushed pink with pleasure and moaning like a whore. He wondered what it would be like to have it wrapped around his cock.

***

It’s by chance that he comes across a hedgewitch selling her wares.

The potion will switch their bodies for one night while everyone is deep in their cups, leaving Arthur safe to slip away unnoticed.

***

Arthur inhales, then wipes a palm down his breeches. It would not do to lose heart now when what he wants is this close. He shuts his eyes, squeezing tight, and thinks desperately of the image of his father, stern and proud, always disapproving, always expecting more. His stomach tingles as the magic takes effect. He can _feel_ it. A quick check in the mirror and he’s off, imitating his father’s stride as he walks towards the bedroom where his father’s bed slave is kept waiting for his master.

“Boy,” he calls out softly, then clears his throat. _Be commanding_ , he reminds himself.

“Sire.” 

Merlin sits up, his lips parting. His legs are spread, wanton, the laces of his breeches half undone. Arthur can see the pink of his nipples through his gauzy white tunic and swallows, his throat dry. Finally, he’ll be able to taste the boy, fuck him into the mattress until he moans like a bitch in heat.

Arthur moves towards the bed with his father’s sure gait. But as he pushes Merlin down, his fingers become frustratingly clumsy, unsure. Merlin shrugs out of his tunic and doesn’t say a word, his lashes lowered. 

Arthur takes his time to look his fill, at the smattering of dark hair on Merlin’s pale chest, under his arms. He leans forward to take an experimental lick at a nipple, then blows on it, causing Merlin to shiver and moan. Then he inhales hard in the hollow of his underarms. The deep, musky smell makes him desperate for the rut.

The breeches come off easily after that, and he slips his fingers into Merlin’s arse, finding it already slippery with oil and his father’s seed from an earlier coupling. There’s a fleeting sense of wrongness but he shrugs it off as he sinks himself inside that tight warmth. He is young, green, and can barely reign it in, his hips snapping fast, almost violent, Merlin’s body bouncing like a rag doll while he whines and asks for _more_.

In the haze of fucking, Merlin calls his father’s name, propriety forgotten. 

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur responds, feels the deep heat in his belly, his mind whiting out from intense pleasure as he comes deep inside in quick spurts. Merlin pulls on his cock desperately, coming after, still moaning, breathless.

In the afterglow, Arthur turns, inadvertently catching sight of himself—no, Uther—in the mirror and stiffens all over. The distant guilt comes back; he can almost hear his father’s lecture. He stands and prepares to leave, but Merlin catches his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

“You’re Prince Arthur, aren’t you,” he says.

Shocked, Arthur turns around. “How did you know?” A tendril of fear is beginning to make its way down his spine.

“You called me by name,” Merlin muses. “Your father never does. Calls me _boy_ like the fuck toy I am.”

Arthur has never heard his father’s bed slave talk that much, belatedly realizes that behind those sultry eyes is a shrewd mind. “What do you want?” he asks, his voice harsh.

***

He doesn’t expect to find himself in that gauzy white shirt, arse dripping come, terrified. 


	7. Group C (clean)

56.

 

When Merlin comes back, just as she begins to fear he won't come at all, he is strange and silent, appearing in her quarters one evening not by magic but by knowing a servant's way around the palace and the guards. She reaches out for him immediately, but he shakes his head, clutching a bag in his hands. "I couldn't come back until I knew I could keep you safe. I wasn't strong enough for him, but I will be for you."

Gwen fists her hands at her sides to keep from reaching out as she wants to do. Even a kiss would be a balm. "I thought I'd lost you both."

Merlin shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I tried to save him. But all I can do is help you, if you'll let me."

She would do anything, if it would help him and make him stay. "What do I need to do? Is it magic?" The word tastes strange in her mouth, but this is Merlin. He won't hurt her.

"Yes. It may hurt, but you'll be safe, after. Please, Gwen."

She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Tell me what to do."

Minutes later, Gwen stands bare before the fireplace as Merlin lays out pots of ink. Now that he's distracted, she feels more comfortable cataloguing the way the months have changed him, the scars, the bones standing out against fragile skin. She wonders if the story of her grief is as obvious. If it is, he doesn’t mention it. Sometimes, though, he darts a glance at her, like a starving man shown a feast.

It makes her ache for him, but he will not kiss her until he's done his work, painting her skin with brush and ink. He begins with black, making outlines across her skin, then covers her in color from neck to feet, swirls and spirals that she can't find the pattern of. When that’s done, he stands before her, cupping her face in his hands, eyes bright. “You’ll be safe,” he promises, and starts whispering words that slip from her grasp as easily as the patterns on her skin do.

The ink burns as he speaks, and she bites her lip against the pain as it sinks its way into her skin with the force of his magic. Knowing he has this much power is astounding, but knowing he wants to use it to keep her safe is breathtaking. He's in her, now, in her skin and bones as much as he's in her heart.

“Please,” she gasps when the pain lessens, when he stops speaking, and Merlin covers her mouth with his, kisses like he’s drowning, like the force of their love will make up for lost time, for Arthur's death. “Please come to bed."

Merlin holds her hand and follows like he’s forgotten the way to the bed and it’s an impossibly long way away. Gwen doesn’t want to let go either, and she pulls him into bed when they get there. He lands on top of her in an ungainly tangle of limbs, but she doesn’t let him go, just tugs at his shirt until he strips himself with magic, eyes gold and blazing, and she laughs, sharp and startled.

“Inside me,” she demands, only more desperate with his naked body against hers, and he thrusts inside. She arches against him, head falling back.

It’s inelegant and messy in a way it never was between them, even in the beginning when they fell into bed laughing and teasing—but there were three of them then. Now, Gwen won't let her hands leave Merlin’s skin, desperate for the feel of him when she’s been so alone. Her body welcomes him, remembers the shape of him. He’s wild above her, his hands everywhere at once, setting her skin tingling where his magic rests. Gwen begs for more, more contact, more of him, and Merlin gives it, his head dropped to rest against the curve of her neck. When she comes, she takes him with her, and it’s like something sliding into place.

After, she wraps her arms around him and lets him run his fingers across her tingling skin. “You’ll be safe,” he promises.

Gwen looks down at the designs marking her skin and thinks of what they mean, his penance and his love. “Of course I will be. You’re here now.”

 

57.

 

The first time Arthur busted Merlin for solicitation and Merlin had heard his name, a slow smile had spread across his face. Eyes that spoke with the promise of sin bored deeply into Arthur's own and warm tingle spread across Arthur’s body as the air crackled with the sexual attraction between them.

“Well P.C. Pendragon,” Merlin had said with amusement, “You and I must be destiny because around here folks call me Merlin.” A lascivious leer turned up his lips. “So how about you and I get together later and make some magic of our own?”

***

After that first meeting a pattern formed, where every few weeks Merlin would turn up on Arthurs patrol to goad, proposition and tempt him in turn; always dressed in the tightest of clothes, the best form of advertisement for a trollop like Merlin, and usually with an unfortunate pun that involved wands or night sticks.

Name calling wasn’t uncommon on both sides during these meetings and yet each time Arthur turned to walk away was more difficult than the last.

***

Everything changed when the druids came out in force and a bloody gang war broke out over the drug trade in London. The MET needed informers close to the action, and where there were hookers there was crack, smack and dealers looking to hook their next victim.

The only person in that scene Arthur would trust was Merlin.

***

Sergeant Percy from Vice was the one to bring Merlin in, but Arthur was there for the questioning and request for aid. He was also the one to escort Merlin to the bathroom after he’d told the Sergeant where he could stick his offer. 

***

As soon as the door closed behind them Arthur had Merlin pinned against the wall, one leg thrust between Merlin's, a forearm on either side of his head, trapping him against Arthur’s body.

“You’re going to do this for me Merlin,” Arthur grunted into Merlin's ear, his lips caressing Merlin's lobe before working their way to his cheek.

“Fuck you Pratdragon,” Merlin swore as he turned his head to avoid the onslaught of Arthur’s lips. “I’m not going to risk my life so you and Sergeant No- Sleeves out there can sleep better at night thinking you’re doing something to stop the druids.” He sighed, body slumping against the wall, curling in on himself as if to make his body the smallest possible target. “Do I really mean so little to you? Jesus Christ, I’m probably just the whore you tell your friends you dream of fucking but –“

Arthur cut off his bitter tirade, crushing Merlin's rosebud lips against his own in a cruel kiss, waging their tongues in a violent battle for domination that had little to do with desire. Since the very first day they met, Merlin had sought control with the use of his body and the heat that flowed between them. Now it was Arthur's turn to do the same.

“If all I wanted was to fuck you, you’d be bent over this sink right now, taking everything I could give you and begging me for more. Jesus Christ, Don’t you get it? I could make you do anything I wanted,” Arthur said, slowly trailing one hand from the curve of Merlin's neck down the contour of his body to rest against the bulge in his trousers.

“Fuck Merlin, I could have you arrested and no one would care. I could hold you down and take you right now and nothing would happen to me, and do you know why? Because I’m the one with the badge and you’re the tart who works the streets at night.” 

He unzipped Merlin's fly and ground his palm into Merlin's erection, before dropping to his knees and swallowing around it. He worked his tongue deftly around the head, gripping Merlin's hips tight enough to leave marks. Each little cry drawn from Merlin's mouth egging him on further until Merlin collapsed around him.

“Fuck Arthur,” Merlin said once he’d recovered enough to speak. “You don’t get make my decisions for me. I’m not scared of you or your damn badge—“

Arthur cut Merlin off with a hand over his mouth and lent forward look directly into Merlins eyes. “You’re going to do this Merlin. You’re going to go out there and tell Sergeant Percy you’ll help him; not only because it’s the right thing to do but because afterwards I’m going to take you home with me and I’m going to fuck you on every surface of my apartment. And then when we’re finished we’ll start all over again because you’ll never want to see the back of me.”

“I always want to see the back of you Arthur,” Merlin said softly, “And not because you’ve got the finest arse this side of London but because I know the only way this story ends is with one of us in the morgue and the other on a street corner.”

 

58.

 

The curse-maker is sitting by the Great Bath of Aquae Sulis, a linen bathing kilt wrapped around his waist, his chest bare and pale. Clouds of steam hang over the green waters, smelling of the earth and the fires deep within it. Stepping into this room feels like entering another world, with the curse-maker a creature of it: he is bright and dark, serious and silly, honest and evasive, and beyond Arthur’s grasp.

“Hello, Emrys,” Arthur says. “Care to take the waters?”

Emrys’ smile curves slowly, giving Arthur’s heart time to pound. Emrys is supposed to say yes. He’s supposed to join Arthur in the waters, where they will talk easily, Emrys telling ridiculous tales of his childhood home in some far-flung corner of Britannia. There is a pattern to their meetings, and for all he might wish it, Arthur has never quite known how to shape it into something new.

"Of course," Emrys finally says. "Are you ready?"

"I'm not the one lounging about," Arthur snaps. Emrys does this to him, brings out testiness as well as curiosity, anger as well as hope. "If we might begin before the baths close for the evening....?"

Arthur takes the steps down into the water, enjoying the slow spread of warmth up to his chest. Emrys plunges in like a dog into a river, dousing himself all at once, re-emerging with his hair plastered to his head.

"You're absurd," Arthur informs him. "You're going to convince all your potential customers that you're an idiot. Although perhaps they deserve to know."

Emrys shrugs and begins to float, legs bumping gently against Arthur's side.

Most curse-makers are charlatans out to make money off the desperate. Some can hammer the lead tablets into thin, delicate sheets, while others’ handwriting can turn the most petty words into works of art, supposedly to please the goddess. Arthur has heard the whispers about Emrys. His father is governor of this province; hearing whispers is Arthur’s job. Emrys has little skill with hammer or stylus, but people go to him nonetheless. People go to him because his words _work._

He doesn’t help those out for revenge, the whispers say. Don't go to Emrys unless your need is true, unless you are looking for something - property, health, love - that you have lost.

Emrys is drifting aimlessly, eyes closed, no heed to his surroundings. The baths are less crowded now than during the day, but he still risks bumping into someone's backside. Arthur reels him in, gripping Emrys’ waist.

He's oddly quiet tonight. Arthur doesn’t know how to ask after his troubles, or if Emrys would thank him if he did. Perhaps he has already tried to give them up to the goddess. Arthur wonders, not for the first time, if Emrys' words work on himself.

Emrys’ eyes open. "Do you think you can lose the future?"

Arthur stares. "What?"

“It’s waiting for you. For me. More distant than you can dream. And the shape of it....” Emrys slips from Arthur’s grasp, stands and cups water in his hand. “I see it, but never myself holding onto it.” He watches Arthur unblinkingly while the water trickles through his fingers.

"All I see is the new sun each morning,” Arthur says. “All I can hope to hold is what's before me that day." 

“And do you?” Emrys’ voice is hoarse, his eyes unfathomable. “Do you hope?”

Arthur grabs Emrys’ waist again by way of answer, this time with both hands.

He’s half-prepared for what happens next. He expects the kiss but not the fierceness, for Emrys to cup his face and kiss as if he’s drinking Arthur in, as if Arthur is the true spring quenching Emrys’ soul. For himself, Arthur expects the kiss to affect his heart, his body; he doesn’t expect it to taste of infinity.

They’re shrouded in mist curling from the water and the shadows of approaching night. Still, Arthur knows they’re merely obscured, not unseen, so as they part to breathe, he reaches for Emrys beneath the surface, where it can be for them alone.

Stroking a hand over Emrys' stomach gets him a helpless, ticklish laugh, but spanning his lower back with splayed hands earns Arthur parted lips and hooded eyes. When Emrys twines a leg around Arthur's, they're drawn together hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and Arthur gasps when a slight shift adds the pressure of Emrys' cock.

He will hold Emrys in every way he can, here and now, when it counts. He will slide a hand up Emrys’ thigh and wrap it around his cock, he will pull and stroke until Emrys’ breath is wild and he clutches at Arthur for support, holding tight. 

They will be bound together, and time will not let them be lost.

 

59.

 

The man wearing a mask with gold patterns around the eyes takes Arthur’s hand. They weave through the dance floor, full of grinding patrons. From raised platforms and suspended cages, naked men and women dance. All wear a mask.

It’s a rule of Dragon’s Lair. A masquerade-style mask must be worn.

Arthur’s is red, patterned with yellow dragons.

They descend to the dungeon floor and go into The Dildo Room.

Inside are three others. A woman sits naked except for her mask, patterned with gems to look like a crown, and a pair of heels. Another wears a flower-print corset and a similarly-designed mask. At her feet sits a man with a plain black mask and a collar around his neck. 

Crown-Mask eyes Arthur up and down, but when Arthur looks at her he never gets further than her tits.

“That’s him?” Flower-Mask says. “I see he means.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Arthur asks.

“He’s been eye-fucking you for weeks,” Black-Mask nods over to Golden-Eyes. “Good on you for finally talking to him.”

“He told you?” Golden-Eyes sighs with exasperation.

“Who?” Arthur asks before it clicks. “That guy with the hair you were with at the bar?”

“He’s got a big mouth,” Crown-Mask laughs. “If he comes here, we’ll shut him up.”

Golden-Eyes leads Arthur to a particular booth. The Dildo Room has various leather-covered seats from which protrude dildos of various sizes and textures. Most vibrate through the push of a button.

The newest is The Chained Beast, sat in the middle of a huge circular cushion. It’s larger than the others, decorated with bumps and scales. The tip forms a dragon’s grinning jaws.

Arthur fingers the red scarf which Golden-Eyes wears. He had thought it a stupid garment, but now he says; “tie this around my mouth.”

Golden-Eyes raises his eyebrows. “You’re embarrassed they’ll hear you?”

“No,” Arthur smirks. “I want to see how horny for me you can get.”

“You wouldn’t believe.”

Clothes strip to the floor and lube is fetched from a dispensing machine in the wall. A pair of cuffs are produced from Golden-Eye’s jacket pocket, which hold Arthur’s wrists together behind his back. Then he gags Arthur with his scarf. Golden-Eyes smears the lube around Arthur’s anus and it takes much of Arthur’s self-control not to fuck himself against that touch.

The rest of the lube is spread over The Chained Beast and Arthur kneels over it.

“Nod your head twice if you want me to stop,” Golden-Eyes tells him. 

Arthur nods once.

Lowers himself onto the dildo, rolls his hips, pushes it inside him. 

Golden-Eyes presses the button to make The Chained Beast vibrate. Arthur arches his back, furiously bucks against the huge object. He feels the vibrations pulse through him. He moans loudly, desperately, not able to impale himself fast enough onto the huge plastic dragon cock.

Arthur sees Golden-Eyes stroking himself. Something about that sends a surge of possession. 

He nods twice.

Golden-Eyes grits his teeth as he stops masturbating and presses the button to stop the vibrations. He kneels next to Arthur and pulls the scarf from his mouth.

“You okay?”

Arthur pants an urgent; “ _fuck me!_ Fuck me with this still inside me!”

He grinds his hips in small circles, moans softly while bumps and scales rub against him.

Golden-Eyes moves behind Arthur. Pre-cum slicks his cock. Then Arthur feels it push up inside him. It starts slow but builds a pace as Golden-Eyes thrusts into Arthur, who jerks his hips back to fill himself with both cocks. It’s slow and hurts but feels _so fucking good_.

Golden-Eyes kisses frantically at Arthur’s neck. Both of them thrust and grind against each other. Arthur twists enough to catch the man’s lips. Their tongues tangle and fuck each other’s mouths.

Golden-Eyes pushes the button again.

The vibrations pound through Arthur. He comes hard, screaming.

Arthur must have blacked out because next thing he knows the vibrations have stopped. Golden-Eyes is undoing the cuffs and helping him to his feet.

“You alright?”

Arthur nods, steadies himself but finds no need to pull away. 

Golden-Eyes smiles and he nods towards the door. “Hot tub area?”

They gather their clothes but don’t dress. Just carry their respective bundles.

Golden-Eyes’ friend from the bar did indeed enter the room. He’s sprawled on the floor with Crown-Mask sat on his face, grinding her wet cunt into his mouth. Black-Mask’s tongue is between the legs of Flower-Mask, who smiles as Golden-Eyes and Arthur pass by.

 

60.

The first time Arthur let Percival tie him to the bed, he hadn't known what to expect. Especially considering how very briefly they’d been trying the whole Dom-sub thing, and how much it had taken them to get even that far. That night, Arthur had been face-up, tied only by his hands on either corner of the bed. Percival had kept the lights on and smiled at Arthur reassuringly before stroking, kissing, licking, nibbling and worshiping nearly every inch of Arthur’s body before fucking him slowly.

Arthur can remember the orgasm so clearly, in spite of the way he’d floated through it, clinging to Percival with only kisses, his arms loose and limp in the restraints, his legs split wide open on either side of Percival. He watches Percival kiss his wrists before they’re both fastened into the cuffs. Arthur tenses only for a moment before Percival is hovering above him, kissing him gently until Arthur feels himself getting lost in Percival’s lips and tongue, the warmth of his body, and not inside his own head. 

When Percival pulls away, Arthur whines and lifts his head after him, earning him a chuckle and an eyeroll, but also another quick kiss. Arthur’s a little bit ashamed of his neediness, but also in awe of Percival, and of how well he can read Arthur, how he takes care of him, even if Arthur thinks it should be the other way. 

Percival comes back into Arthur’s line of sight with the blindfold, leaning over him again.

"Lift your head."

Arthur does, and Percival puts the blindfold on, enveloping Arthur’s world in darkness. He can feel his breath catch for a second as Percival moves off him again, far too quietly, and Arthur strains to hear him, moving his head back and forth. 

"Shhh, still here." Percival’s voice comes from the other side of the bed, then Arthur feels lips on his fingers, then his knuckles. 

He shudders at every kiss along his arm, and fluctuates between turned on and embarrassed and guilty – because he loves this so much, because he knows Percival is aware of just how much he loves it, and because he should be the one taking care of Percival. The nip on his shoulder takes him by surprise. Arthur turns his head toward him, wanting to get closer. 

Arthur expects Percival to gag him or slap his face away, and the anticipation is killing him, making him curl his toes around the bedspread to not kick up or thrash. What he doesn't expect (though he should, because Percival is very observant) is for Percival to nose into his armpit. 

"Fuck," is out of Arthur’s mouth before he can stop himself, his whole body trembling. He’s stuck between wanting to move closer and move away, embarrassment and arousal waging a war inside him. He stays still instead, waiting for Percival, like he’s supposed to. 

"Good," Percival says, his breath warm against Arthur’s shaved armpit, on the verge of ticklish, but not quite. Arthur is glad for the blindfold then, not having to watch Percival put himself there, where Arthur is probably sweaty and disgusting. 

Arthur’s clenching his muscles in anticipation, feeling Percival’s even breaths, waiting. It takes him a long time, far too long, he knows, to realize that if he doesn't relax, Percival won’t do anything. So he lets the tension drain away from his body again, shuddering when Percival wastes no time and buries his face in Arthur’s armpit completely. 

Arthur moans out, digs his fingers into his palms, but stays still otherwise, would have even without Percival’s hands holding him at his throat and hip. Percival continues only nosing, breathing heavy into the hollow of the armpit and Arthur can feel himself growing harder and harder, arousal a clear winner of the war. He thinks the blindfold adds to it, too, makes him work himself up more and more, imagining things that are happening right next to his face. 

His breathing is laboured, coming in shorter and shorter when Percival finally begins licking and kissing at Arthur’s pit. Arthur moans out, practically a sob and it takes very very little before he’s pushing his neck up into Percival’s hand, silently begging for more. 

Percival squeezes his neck on an exhale and licks him harder than before, entire face moving inside Arthur’s armpit. That’s it; gasping, breathless, Arthur comes untouched. His toes dig into the bedspread, heart beats fast, but when Percival kisses him, he feels better than he had all day.

 

61.

 

Morgana twisted the yarn around her fingers. On the bed, Merlin writhed.

“Still reckon you can take everything I’ve got?” A smirk played over her lips.

“Always,” he said. She tugged on the yarn again; the bed creaked as its wooden tendrils spread his legs further apart, looping around his thighs, clinging on tight. 

She wondered how it felt against his skin. The tendrils crawling out of the bed-frame still looked like polished wood, but she knew they were warm to the touch – she’d made them that way. She tugged again and he hissed as a tentacle teased the underside of his knee.

“You’re a really fast learner.” His voice hitched slightly.

“Don’t ever doubt it.” _A control exercise_ , that was how they were justifying this. Seeing how delicately she could use her magic. Morgana suspected it was testing Merlin;s control as well. He liked being tied up, but it frightened him. Sometimes his magic would free him without him meaning it to. He was pushing back already, muscles flexing against the wooden tendrils.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to run her hands down his chest, dig her nails into his skin, tease all the places she knew he liked to be teased – but that was against the rules. 

He wasn’t hard yet. She looped a strand of yarn around her fingers and a tendril looped around his balls, squeezing gently.

“Careful!”

“I thought you said you trusted me?”

“There’s trust and trust,” he said, “I’m very attached to my – _ahh_!” She wound a tentacle around his cock.

Of course, like so many of their ‘magic exercises’, the lesson part had gone out of the window when Merlin took his trousers off. The skin of his thighs was going pink where the tentacles were squeezing tight. He’d probably squirm if she skimmed her fingernails across his skin there.

He was quiet while she stroked him to hardness. He breathed through gritted teeth, fingers clenching and unclenching as the tentacle coiled around his cock

They had made the rules the first time one of their magic lessons had turned into – whatever this was. Morgana would not take off too many clothes – she was in a shift now, fabric falling in crisp folds around her needs – and they would not touch. It wouldn’t be appropriate – that was the word they’d used, _appropriate_.

The skin between Merlin’s legs was soft and pale, hairs standing out starkly. His hips were thrusting up into the grasp of the wooden tentacle, trying to get himself off. Morgana tugged on the threads, tightening her grip, and he let out a frustrated sound.

“Have you had enough?” she said, “or shall I keep going?”

“I can take it.”

She pulled his legs open even wider, and he gasped, body all stretched out, taut as a bowstring. The things he did to her – she could feel how wet she was every time she moved, her cunt all slippery, her toes curling against the bed sheets.

Merlin didn’t know the real reason for the no touching rule. Morgana was afraid that if she started she wouldn’t be able to stop, that she’d want to touch him everywhere, feel his hands all over her; she’d let him touch her breasts the way she knew he wanted to, let him bury his face in her cunt the way he wanted to; straddle him and take his cock inside herself, ride him until he yelled. If she touched him.

A flick of her fingers and a twist of the thread and the tentacles writhed against his skin. He bit back a moan.

A tentacle slid behind his balls. He gasped and tensed, muscles flexing, trying to move, but he was held fast. “Do you want me to?” she asked.

“Yeah. Do it.”

A few words to make the tentacle slick and a push and it went in easy. Merlin cried out, head trailing back against the pillows, and Morgana loosened her grip, let him writhe and buck as she made it move inside him.

She could see where his body was clenching as the tendril slipped in and out of him. She dropped the bundle of threads and shoved a hand between her legs, stroking herself through her shift, fabric clinging filthily where she was wet. When he cried out again she came, body thrumming with heat. The wooden tentacles loosened and dissolved, freeing him with a jolt, and she sat and listened to him gasping.

 

62.

 

Maybe it wasn’t every boy’s dream to star in gay porn when he grew up, but Arthur couldn’t complain about his chosen line of work. At first it had only been about having some money of his own for a change and helping fund his way through the school of economics, but after graduating Arthur had decided that he preferred the porn industry to the world of business after all. At least here his co-workers asked permission before screwing him.

Not that he actually bottomed often. Bulky guys like him tended to do all the fucking just because the audience expected it. On his free time Arthur liked it better the other way round, which conveniently helped him keep fucking for work and fucking for pleasure apart.

“We’re ready,” Morgana called. “We’re just waiting for you.”

The first time Arthur had to work with Morgana had been mortifying, but logically thinking, it was Arthur’s job to be naked in front of other people, so why should his sister being present make it any more embarrassing? Morgana was also brilliant at her work. The only downside was the snarky commentary he had to listen to every time he worked with someone who he found attractive on a deeper level than just the professional one.

“This time could you please try to downgrade your eyesex with Merlin? I know audience enjoys it, but it’s awkward for the other people in the room.”

“Fuck off, Morgana.”

“I don’t think I will. That’s _your_ job.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

There was a plot to the film like there always was, but as no one was going to watch it for the plot anyway, Arthur had forgotten it around the same time Merlin’s lips first came in contact with his cock. In Arthur’s opinion this was a much better use of Merlin’s mouth than his constant blabbering. The truth was that sometimes when Merlin did _that thing_ with his tongue, Arthur tended to forget he was supposed to be _working_ and just enjoyed the sensation of a pretty guy sucking his cock.

Dozing was not an option though, because they had to move to the main act. It wouldn’t be proper gay porn unless someone’s cock came in contact with someone’s arse. Merlin had naturally been prepared already, so when he pushed Arthur on the bed, put the condom on him, and climbed on his lap he could’ve just sat on Arthur’s cock, but audience always enjoyed the preparation and what Morgana called their “eyesex moments”.

Merlin preferred to do the preparing with his own fingers which left Arthur’s hands free to touch his body while he stared at Merlin. They had to mind the camera angles, because Morgana always insistent that the brilliant work of art, the dragon tattoo that started from the shoulder and covered most of Merlin’s right arm, should be visible at all times. Arthur both hated and adored that tattoo. Adored the colours and texture and how it was suited both Merlin’s body and personality, but hated that he was never allowed to touch it because it had to remain _visible_. Merlin smirked at Arthur like he knew exactly what Arthur was thinking. In return Arthur just pulled Merlin into an almost violent kiss and pushed his hips against Merlin’s backside.

It naturally moved from there. Arthur pushed inside and got a whimper that was _almost_ for sure authentic. It felt natural to move like this with Merlin, hitting the prostate and having another kiss in return. Merlin came all over his stomach and chest with a dramatic shout, and instead of sweeping some of the come with his fingers and tasting it like he wanted, Arthur concentrated on finishing the job. He gripped Merlin’s hips tight and pushed in sharply a couple of times until he came too. 

They stared each other for a while when they were both coming down from their high, and then Arthur heard Morgana shout at the film crew that it was a wrap and they could use the scene. Merlin blinked and climbed off of Arthur. Arthur hardly noticed the girl who gave him a dressing gown to wear.

“So uh,” Arthur started. “Good shot today.”

“Yeah,” Merlin answered. “Hope we can do another one sometime.”

Merlin gave him a wink and left the room, leaving Arthur wondering why the hell he found Merlin so intriguing and imagine how one day yet he would solve the riddle of him.

 

63.

 

The thing about Arthur Pendragon was that he really wasn't Merlin's usual type. Their first blind-date hadn't been anything special which was why Merlin was surprised when Arthur texted him an invitation to come watch him play footie.

Merlin had been pleased to see that it was shirts vs skins _because yes please manflesh_. Merlin was enjoying the match plenty when he caught sight of a mark on Arthur's left shoulder poking out from under his shirtsleeve. Merlin stared at it for a few moments before realizing holy shit, that's a tattoo. It was nothing to get excited over, but somehow the thought of docile bank manager Arthur Pendragon having a tattoo went straight to his cock. 

It became increasingly difficult to watch the game after that. He nearly had a heart attack when Arthur bent over and his shirt rode up just enough to see _Jesus Christ, it's a full back tattoo_ , and any doubt that he wasn't going to jump Arthur after the game left his mind.

For his part, Arthur seemed quite enthusiastic about being slammed up against the wall of Merlin's flat and being guided backwards towards the bedroom. He shucked his trousers and started working on Merlin's when Merlin shook his head.

"Nuh-uh, shirt first and turn around."

Arthur obliged, if a little confused, and crouched on his hands and knees on the bed, giving Merlin his first real look at the tattoo. And _fucking Christ_ if Merlin hadn't been hard before he sure as hell was now.

It was a dragon; all reds and golds that splashed across his entire back like a watercolour painting. The dragon's head was positioned between his shoulder blades and its tail and claws dipped down below the line of his pants. Arthur chose that moment to stretch and Merlin's mouth watered as he watched Arthur's muscles shift, making the dragon ripple.

"Any day now Merlin."

Transfixed, Merlin lowered his mouth to Arthur's back and pressed an open mouth kiss to one of the wings.

"Merlin what t- oh," Arthur stopped as Merlin began tracing the outline of the tattoo with his tongue. He followed the lines all the way across, swooping down where it dipped along Arthur's side, nipping and kissing gently. He reached the elastic of the pants and tugged them down, swirling his tongue in one of Arthur's muscled dimples, tasting the sweat. Arthur moaned and collapsed onto the bed.

Merlin continued his progression downwards, following the tail until it stopped just above Arthur's crack. Feeling bold, he slid his tongue between the cheeks, circling his hole. Arthur mumbled incoherently and began rutting against the bed. Merlin grabbed his hips, slowing his pace. He reached forward, pressing two of his fingers against Arthur's lips and was rewarded with Arthur taking them greedily into his mouth. Merlin chuckled and pulled them out, enjoying the way Arthur whimpered and turned his head to follow their progress.

Merlin waited until Arthur had found his rhythm again before pushing one of his fingers gently inside, licking around it and easing its passage. Arthur let out a string of expletives that Merlin took as a complement as he started to thrust with his finger properly, syncing up with Arthur's increasing pace.

Unable to ignore the pressure in his jeans anymore, Merlin undid his fly and pulled his cock out. He stroked himself a couple times before returning his attention to Arthur, swirling his tongue around his hole before adding a second finger. Arthur swore and jerked backwards, forcing Merlin's fingers deeper.

Merlin continued to thrust and stretch until he judged Arthur was close to coming and removed his fingers. Arthur let out a whine that turned into a yelp as Merlin slammed his tongue into Arthur. Unable to delay any longer, Merlin began stroking himself furiously and felt his orgasm building embarrassingly fast. Luckily Arthur was too far gone to care, fucking himself shamelessly on Merlin's tongue and the bed.

Arthur came first with a full body shudder as he humped desperately into the sheets. Merlin licked him through it before getting up on his knees and coming across Arthur's back. His come coated the dragon, adding texture to the existing watercolour background and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing Merlin had ever seen. Maybe he could take a picture somehow and frame it above his bed for future wank material. His reverie was interrupted by Arthur clearing his throat.

"Um, any chance I could have a towel?"

 

64.

 

It’s just Tuesday. Same morning routine, same conversation in the cafeteria with Will, same asshole ruining your day.

Valiant and his shithead friends have started mocking your clothes and extra-curricular activities. Over his shoulder you see Arthur surrounded by the usual ass-kissers. His angry expression and clenched fist makes you think he’s about to confront Valiant to 'protect' you. The humiliation of being thought of as Arthur’s loser little brother is too much so you yell, “Oh, fuck off,” at Valiant shocking everyone around you, including Arthur, by the looks of it.

The bell rings and you escape to class, ignoring Will’s shouts and Arthur’s eyes.

*

After chem club, you wait by Arthur’s locker for him to finish tutoring and drive you home.

“What was Valiant saying to you?”

Suddenly Arthur's standing next to you, staring at you.

“His usual shit. Don’t worry about it.”

“You told him off? Just like that?” He smiles and you realize he’s proud of you. Your stomach clenches in that not-entirely-unpleasant way it does whenever Arthur’s around.

He moves closer, his chest brushing against yours, hands on the wall behind you. You’re surprised to find you’re the same height – Arthur has always been larger than life to you. He lifts his hands to touch your face, angle your mouth for a kiss. It’s soft at first, testing and unsure. Soon there’s a pattern – a gentle suck, followed by a pull on the hair at your neck and a needy bite to the plump of your lip.

After a few blissful moments, Arthur pulls back - right hand still tangled in your hair, left resting on your hip. You can’t take the idea of him regretting this, so you run your hands up his chest to rest upon his shoulders, try to distract him from his thoughts with your inexperienced lips.

He doesn’t respond at first, just stands there breathing heavy, eyes shut tight. You try again. And again. “I want this,” you whisper. Finally he breaks, presses you into the wall until you can barely breathe.

All you can think about is the wetness of Arthur’s mouth and the hard muscle of his body. You know what his body looks like – catching glimpses after he showers, towel low on his hips, summer tan still intact. You never thought you would feel him in this way, especially not in school where anyone could walk by. The thought of getting caught with Arthur excites you, that someone else could see this moment unfold and know that you are more to each other than just brothers.

You feel his dick hardening against your thigh and it makes your face flush. He puts one leg between yours, pushing up lightly, then harder, deliberate. The strength of his body is evident in every thrust, every time his hand grips your side like a vise. Like this it’s obvious Arthur is a man, not a boy like you.

“Christ, Merlin,” he says, groaning into the crook of your neck when you start to fuck against his thigh.

You both rush to touch undiscovered skin. Arthur’s hands catch the hem of your t-shirt and raise it to your ribcage, goosebumps rising along with it. You don't want to wait another second, risk discovery and the end of this. Whatever _this_ is. You focus on his jeans and the abnormally difficult task of unzipping them. You’re shaking with nerves and hope Arthur doesn’t notice, that he won’t laugh at you for being such a virgin about it. Finally you reach in and _jesus_ that’s Arthur’s dick. Even through his boxers you can feel the heat of it and you let out a pathetic whine.

“Yeah. That’s good,” he says, gulping down some air. You nod in agreement; can’t actually form a response yet, can’t take your eyes off the sight of your hand down Arthur’s pants. “You can, uh, rub a little harder. Feels good, promise.”

You grasp his dick tighter and Arthur increases the pressure on your own. Your orgasm is approaching quickly, but you’re too undisciplined to stop it. The crotch of your jeans gets saturated with come, but Arthur keeps rubbing against you, panting into your mouth. You feel like you’re not contributing, so you squeeze again and tell Arthur how beautiful he is.

He lets out a strangled, “Oh, god,” before he’s coming too.

*

Once you can breathe again, there’s sheepish looks and grabbing your backpacks, leaving the hallway before someoe investigates the strange noises you’ve been making for the last ten minutes.

 

65.

 

Blue

Merlin rutted against Arthur, kissing him frantically, but when he pulled back, he was a bit startled to look into his own face. He groaned; it was so wrong yet so hot. He felt Arthur’s…no, his own hand wrapped around both their pricks, pumping steadily and his eyes followed the movement up the arm where he saw strong muscles working underneath pale skin. Gosh, this was almost like fucking himself.

“Arthur?” he whispered in a voice that wasn’t his own.

“Yeah?” So this was what his voice sounded like to others.

“I need to…”

“Fuck me.” Arthur let go and rolled onto his back and already pulled his knees against his chest. “I…you do the magic.”

Merlin concentrated and whispered the spell that prepared Arthur’s…no, his own body and then slowly pushed in. It was wrong. So so so wrong. How perverted did you have to be to enjoy fucking yourself? But from all the kinky things they’d ever done, this was the one they got off on most. 

So he slowly fucked into his own arse and looked down into his own eyes, searching for a hint of Arthur in them, but they looked perfectly like his. 

Arthur threw his head back and keened. “Come on, faster. I wanna…”

Merlin enjoyed the tight feeling of his arse and slammed into it faster until Arthur cried out and came. Before he had the chance for release, Arthur had pushed him off. “Wha…?”

“Here!” Merlin watched his own hands reaching for the giant blue dildo they’d bought a while ago as a joke. 

“You can’t be serious!”

Arthur looked at him with curious wide blue eyes underneath an unruly black fringe. “I always wondered if I could take it. You have the right spells to prepare yourself…me, my body. It will be so hot watching you…me…taking it all the way in.”

“You’re a sick fuck.” Merlin swallowed as he looked at the thing that was almost as wide as his forearm. 

Grinning the grin that made his eyes crinkle up, Arthur nodded. “So are you. Or why else did you just fuck your own arse?”

Merlin closed his eyes and ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair that felt so different between his fingers. When he opened his eyes and murmured a spell in the old language, his eyes flashed golden. He fell forwards and presented his plump arse. “Alright…do it. But go slow.”

But he didn’t feel the soft silicone of the dildo right away. First, there were fingers exploring and then a tongue, his own tongue. He had done this to Arthur a thousand times, but now he was about to learn how it felt for him. He moaned when the tip of his tongue probed his arse. 

Arthur was playing with his arse for a while before Merlin finally heard the lube bottle being opened and finally, the toy touched him. “Shove it in! I won’t last much longer!” He gritted his teeth and took a couple of deep breaths when he felt the huge dildo intruding even further. Even though he had prepared the body with the best spells he knew, this thing was wider than anything this body had ever taken. 

“So hot. You have no idea.” Arthur’s whispers ghosted hot breath over his buttocks and Merlin pushed back to take more in. 

“Almost there, gosh Merlin, you are amazing.”

“You…your body…remember?” Merlin gritted out and then sighed when he felt the body relax and take the rest of the dildo in. It wasn’t too uncomfortable and when Arthur started to press against the end of it in little circles, Merlin gasped. “Do…do that again!”

Arthur repeated the motion and Merlin felt his dick fill again. Damn, this was fucking fantastic! He braced himself with one arm and reached for his prick with the other hand. 

“Yeah…get yourself off while I play with this.”

Fuck, Arthur had a filthy mouth and the words sounded even dirtier because Merlin heard them in his own voice. 

“Come on, Merlin, let go.”

When the gigantic dildo in his arse was twisted, Merlin yelled out and came hard. Panting, he slumped onto the bed.

Arthur slowly pulled the dildo out and tossed it aside. He draped himself half over his own body, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.”

“Prat.” Knowing that the body-switching spell would break the moment he fell asleep, Merlin closed his eyes.

 

66.

 

Merlin is getting a tattoo, on his back, which he has discovered is VERY sensitive…

**Inked**

Merlin smiled as he walked into the tattoo parlour. Gwen waved him through so he continued into the main work area. Morgana was setting up her chair, the incandescent tattoo of a baby dragon that curled around her scapula on proud display. She called him Aithusa. 

“You’re late.” Merlin twisted around to find Arthur lounging on the couch in the corner. His own chair was empty, his area clean, but technically the shop was closed. 

“You aren’t late,” Morgana said. “I’ll be ready soon. Just get yourself sorted.”

Merlin nodded and walked towards the couch. He didn’t bother with the change room, simply stopped in front of Arthur and began unwinding the scarf from around his neck. Arthur’s blue eyes lifted up and Merlin smirked before dropping the scarf onto the blonde’s lap. Merlin unzipped his hoodie and began a pile of clothes next to Arthur. He left his blood red briefs on with a smirk.

“Nice.”

Merlin smiled and walked back over to Morgana and straddled the chair. Merlin was a comic book artist and he had been thinking about this tattoo since he had first drawn Kilgharrah. The golden dragon, or the outline of him, was sitting low on his back, curling around his hip with its head resting on the jutting line of his hipbone. 

“Why are you still wearing your jocks?”

“He is teasing me,” Arthur said. 

Merlin chuckled and tugged the back of his underwear down and under the curve of his backside. 

“Such a pretty arse.” Merlin’s ears heated. “I’m going to be working on the green colouring on underside of the body today.”

Merlin nodded and tensed. 

“Relax,” Arthur said and Merlin looked up to catch his eye. 

Merlin moaned at the first swipe of alcohol over the skin of his back, his nerves caught and his body jerked. The hair on his arms lifted. 

Merlin could hear Gwen pushing the privacy curtains wide. He thought of the giant windows that made up the shop front, that Gwen never locked the door and he bit down on his lip. 

Morgana ran a fingertip along the edge of the dragon and Merlin shivered. His back had always been sensitive but…she pulled away and Merlin arched back to follow her. He closed his eyes and waited. He hadn’t known when he came in for the tattoo that it would be like this. The machine started making a noise and Merlin smiled and took a deep breath before the first press of the needle. He tensed up so he didn’t move but the sensation flared out from the pinprick. 

Morgana’s hand landed heavy on his spine and Merlin sighed at the secondary contact. His skin felt tight, his breath fluttery. She moved the needle expertly as her pinkie started running over his skin, making him want to shiver. 

Everything was too much, the pain was amazing – something he had never known he would like. But with the hypersensitive skin of his back everything felt like it was too much. Merlin felt his cock begin to strain against the fabric of his jocks. This was why he left them on. He knew he could take them off. Morgana wouldn’t mind, and Arthur certainly wouldn’t. 

Morgana was swirling the needle now, filling in the base green colour. His back was on fire, alight with sensation everywhere the needle went. He gripped the chair in front of him tight and lost himself in the sensation; the prick of the needle, the sweep of Morgana’s pinkie splitting his focus, the tight feeling in his limbs and back begging him to move, and the steady thrumming of blood in his cock. 

Suddenly, everything stopped and Merlin let out a needy moan. He felt the swipe of the cloth over his skin and jerked forward. 

“Easy,” Arthur’s voice in his ear, hand cupping the back of Merlin’s neck. “Relax, she’s done.”

“Already?”

“Yes.” 

“Please…”

Arthur did nothing and Merlin could feel the sudden cold spray of liquid on his back. He arched. 

“I’m done.”

At Morgana’s words Arthur’s hand sunk down until he was cupping Merlin. Merlin leaned back, the heat of Arthur’s hand bleeding though Merlin’s briefs. Perfect, just a little…Arthur’s other hand slid down the line of Merlin’s back and he threw his head back and came. 

“Absolute favourite client,” Morgana said from very far away.

“He’s mine,” Arthur growled out close to Merlin’s ear but his fingers were still stroking Merlin’s spine so the satisfied man didn’t bother to comment. 

**The End**

 

67.

 

Arthur digs his fingers into Merlin’s trembling thighs as Merlin lowers himself onto his cock. The living room carpet is rough against his back and Arthur knows he’s going to regret it tomorrow, but for now there’s only Merlin’s tightness and heat and the pleased hum that escapes his lips when he bottoms out. 

Arthur lets out a shaky breath as Merlin lifts his hips, hands braced on Arthur’s chest, then lowers himself back down with a groan that reverberates through Arthur. He shivers at the slick glide of his cock inside Merlin, at the sounds that fill the room.

Gwaine and Leon are naked on the sofa, fists moving in slow, long pulls over their cocks, eyes fixed on the space where Arthur’s cock disappears inside Merlin. Arthur slides his hands up to Merlin’s waist, holds him still on the upstroke and snaps his hips up while lowering him back down, swift and hard. He throws his head back with a breathless laugh, loving the way Gwaine bites his lips, and Leon’s low and hoarse _fuck_ , like Arthur’s never heard him before.

He wants to look at Percival and Elyan too, but Merlin pinches Arthur’s nipples and grins at him, a bit wide and crazed, and so goddamn beautiful Arthur drags him down with clumsy, urgent fingers on his sweaty skin until he can push his tongue between Merlin’s lips in a messy kiss. 

He should be shy about this, and it should be weird to do this, but somehow it isn’t, somehow it’s perfect and _exactly_ what he wants. 

He holds Merlin tight against him, thrusting harder into him, loving the way Merlin’s cock’s trapped between their bodies, and the scratchy noise of Merlin’s nails against the carpet. The air is heady and warm and smells like sex even though none of them has come yet.

Merlin gasps, says “Now--fuck--now, _now_ ,” and Arthur immediately lets him go, skin almost pulsating with anticipation. 

He unsteadily moves to kneel in front of Merlin, the muscles in his legs screaming in protest, fingers fluttering between his own thighs, twitching against his stomach as he tries not to reach for Merlin. 

_Fuck_ , he wants this so much.

Merlin stands in front of him, hand on his cock and Arthur can’t resist darting his tongue out to lick at it, closing his eyes in pleasure at the taste.

He hears shuffling as people move around him and heat pools low and burning in Arthur’s stomach, so sudden and raw that he has to squeeze the base of his cock hard to prevent himself from coming.

When he opens his eyes he can’t help the low groan that escapes him from deep inside his chest at the sight: five hard cocks being fisted in sure grips all around him. 

The smell of come and sweat is overwhelming and he forces himself to take deep breaths of it, letting it fill him. He loves the obscene noises filling the air and the glistening precome between moving fingers.

Arthur doesn't even think or hesitate, he just leans in and licks at one cockhead, dips his head and mouths at someone else’s balls, turns so one cock can leave wet stickiness on his chin--hungry and dizzy and all of it so fucking _good_.

The first shot of hot come hits his cheek and it sends a shock through him that forces someone to grab roughly at his hair and hold him up. Pain shoots through his scalp in a way that make his toes curl against the carpet. 

He closes his eyes as they all empty themselves on his face and throat and chest, fingers digging in his shoulders and neck as someone smears come over his cheekbone with the tip of their cock. Arthur can’t find enough air to breathe properly. He shivers and grasps at his own cock harder and harder, almost painfully.

He takes harsh breaths through his nose looks up to see Merlin smiling down at him, face flushed and sweaty. 

Merlin swipes come from Arthur’s forehead with his thumb and says, “Happy birthday, _darling_ ,” while pushing it between Arthur’s lips. He sucks greedily on it and it’s sweet and bitter on his tongue. He has no way of knowing who's come it is. 

The realization hits him like a punch, blinding and hot, and Arthur comes with a sharp cry, slumping forward, boneless. Merlin catches him with shaky arms, his tongue warm and soft across Arthur’s lips and cheeks, cleaning him up.

 

68.

 

It had started out as nothing more than dirty talk – mutual fantasies breathed into the space between their bodies. Words wielded like weapons to entice and excite, in their on-going competition to push the other over the edge first.

_The first time they’d slept together, it hadn’t crossed either of their minds, they’d been too wrapped up in each other. Merlin had clung to Arthur like he was the only man in the world, as Arthur watched Merlin’s hole, entranced each time it seemed to pull him back inside._

_The more it happened, the more vocal they became. The room was soon full of “Oh god, Merlin, you’re so tight” and “Fuck, Arthur, just get inside me already.”_

_As they got to know each other’s bodies, they got to know which buttons to press, and it turned out that a major button for each of them was talking about how much they wanted to fill Merlin’s arse._

_“I just want you to fill me so much, until I physically can’t stretch anymore.” Merlin would utter, as Arthur teased him with just two fingers slowly dragging inside his body._

_“Mm, yeah, I want to see how much I can fit inside you, see you fucked raw around my cock.” Then, naturally, they would be too desperate to fuck to consider following through with their words._

Then the dirty talk had started to move onto action. Not much – they were both hesitant, unsure if it was what the other wanted. But slowly, gradually, they built it up.

_It started when they were fucking slowly, wrapped in each other. Arthur trailed a finger around Merlin’s hole, loving the feel of the muscle clenching around his cock, and found that there was enough lube to slip his finger in alongside, stroking inside Merlin as he fucked him. They both came embarrassingly quickly._

_Arthur started to go further when he was fingering Merlin, pressing in and stretching with four instead of the three he usually managed before pushing in with his cock, their chests aligned and his teeth nibbling on Merlin’s collarbone._

They finally managed to talk about it, and both agreed that they wanted to try fisting. They even set a date for it, an evening set aside (marked in Arthur’s work diary, of course, with a small, innocent looking star).

_Merlin had been all for trying it straight away, but Arthur had wanted to do his research, making sure he wouldn’t hurt Merlin in the slightest._

_When they got into bed they were nervous – even though they’d been shagging like bunnies for well over a year. Any tension was soon broken when Merlin rolled over and accidentally elbowed Arthur in the face._

_Arthur loved the feeling of his fingers inside Merlin. He loved the way it initially seemed like it would be impossible to fit more than one, before he gradually stretched him. He loved being enveloped in the warm heat, and the way Merlin jerked as his fingers brushed over just the right spot._

_He finally decided that Merlin was stretched and lubed enough (and had whined and begged enough), and tucked his thumb into his hand, pressing it slowly inside. The pressure as his knuckles went in was almost as overwhelming as the look of pure pleasure on Merlin’s face._

_Soon Arthur was wrist-deep and forming a fist inside Merlin (and oh god his entire fucking hand was inside Merlin). He pulled back until Merlin’s rim was stretched as wide as it would go, then pushed back in slowly. He quickly increased in speed and desperation until they both came, dicks untouched, eyes rolling back and moaning like they never had before._

After they’d started, of course, Merlin didn’t want to stop, on top of which he soon decided that he wanted to feel that full while also having Arthur come inside him. Gwaine’s visit was pencilled into Arthur’s work diary for the soonest weekend possible. Neither Arthur nor Merlin could wait.

 

69.

 

The thing about Arthur is, he needs a _lot_ of stimulation. Like, hands-clawing-down-his-back, teeth-drawing-blood-on-his-shoulder, nails-pressing-tight-against-the-head-of-his-cock levels of a lot.

Merlin does his best to oblige, but he doesn't exactly have a knight's stamina. Too often, their nights end with Arthur twisted beneath him, his face screwed up in an expression more frustration than pleasure, urging Merlin on, _Harder, faster,_ do it, _Merlin, your king commands you,_ while Merlin drips sweat and drives into him as fast as his hips will move. And when his control slips and he comes, Arthur will roll him off and take himself in hand, looking vaguely dissatisfied as he brings himself to a brisk, perfunctory climax.

Merlin is determined to satisfy. Tonight, he's got something special. He waits until Arthur's on his stomach and Merlin is buried in him to the root. Then, with one hand on Arthur's back to hold him down, Merlin leans and retrieves the wooden box he stashed beneath the mattress earlier.

Arthur twists, straining to see. "What is that?"

Merlin shushes him and pushes him down again. He sets the box down and lifts the lid to reveal the object inside, made of smooth, polished leather that Merlin had commissioned special. It shines faintly in the lamplight, enticing, inviting. Merlin grasps it and lets the leather warm in his palm.

There's a vial of oil, too, that Merlin thumbs open and drips along the phallus's length. Arthur twitches when a few drops splash against his hip. "Merlin." His voice is strained now, wanting. Already, it's an improvement.

Merlin hunches over to kisses Arthur's shoulder reassuringly. He strokes the phallus as though it were his own cock, or Arthur's, spreading the oil across its surface until it gleams.

He works one slick finger in first, pressing it beside his cock. Arthur makes a high, questioning sound, but Merlin only answers him with a second finger beside the first.

Already he's breathing harder. His he rocks back, pushing onto Merlin. When Merlin's worked three fingers in and Arthur's taken them eagerly, he gives them a careful twist, then replaces them with the broad, blunt pressure of the phallus's head, nudging at Arthur's hole beside Merlin's own cock.

It pulls Arthur's entrance tight around his cock as he pushes it in slowly. Arthur gasps and jolts beneath him, drops down off his hands to sprawl on his stomach, moaning broken noises into the linens.

Merlin twists the device and adds more oil, and as Arthur gives a broken cry, the phallus's head slides past Arthur's entrance. 

Arthur clenches tight around them both. His groans are nearly lost beneath the thunder of Merlin's pulse in his ears. He grabs at Arthur's hips and drives into him, gripping the phallus's shaft and moving both cocks inside him.

The way he falls apart under Merlin's hands, going wild and desperate as he ruts against the bed, makes Merlin want to keep him like this forever. He pushes the phallus in until Arthur has taken them both to the hilt, then leans forward, his hands braced on Arthur's shoulders, and starts moving within him.

It starts as a slow glide, but quickly falters and succumbs to frantic need. Merlin drives into him, fucks him hard and fast. He could come just like this, but he clamps down on his own orgasm and presses on, teeth in Arthur's shoulder and fingers biting into his sides. Finally, Arthur stops holding back lets himself go. He throws his head back with a cry as he shakes and spends himself on the sheets. There's nothing on his face but ecstasy that shifts into pleased satisfaction as his climax releases him from its grip, and Merlin seeks his own.

He follows after only moments later, clinging tight to Arthur as he empties himself. He holds himself up long enough to slide the phallus out and return it to his box, and then he drops down onto Arthur, boneless.

Arthur twists, rolling onto his back and wrapping Merlin in his arms. "That's wicked, Merlin," he says, and Merlin lifts his head enough to see that he's grinning at the canopy overhead.

"You like it." He doesn't make it a question. It's plain enough to see on his face that Arthur has had the satisfaction he seeks.

Arthur kisses him in answer. He goes lax and pliant beneath Merlin; and the King at last can rest.

 

70.

 

When the doors slam shut behind her, Gwen doesn’t flinch. She strides briskly down the empty length of the throne room with her shoulders back and head held high. She levels her sharp emerald gaze at Uther, who remains seated on the throne at the far end of the room instead of running to embrace her as he customarily does.

He raises a hand clad in black leather. “That’s far enough. Strip.”

Gwen stops short in the center of the room, Morgana’s silken gown and long, coal-black tresses billowing around her. She laughs breathlessly. “Surely I misheard—”

Uther speaks over her. “If you find yourself incapable or unwilling, one of my men will do it for you.”

For the first time, Gwen becomes aware of the knights lined up against the walls on her left and right. Should Uther give the word, they can easily overpower her.

“You,” she snarls, lips curled in disgust, “are a lecherous old man!”

Gwen reaches back, unclasping the familiar fastenings of Morgana’s gown. The fabric slides easily down her shoulders, but she has to shimmy to tug it past her hips. She glares defiantly at Uther as the gown of shining plum and turquoise pools around her. Ordinarily she would feel powerless standing there nearly naked, but in Morgana’s body she is no less than a queen, unbothered by the hot, hungry gazes of half a hundred young men. 

Uther’s leering once-over makes her skin itch and crawl. He chuckles lightly, as if amused by her discomfort. “I present to you the Lady Morgana,” he announces to his audience, pushing to his feet and gesturing towards Gwen. “Here she stands—adorned, perfumed, and powdered as if she goes not to a punishment, but to her wedding bed!”

The knights laugh quietly—likely only because they fear Uther’s rage, but Gwen still seethes. She chose the elegant set of emerald green underclothes especially for the occasion. They are elegant, and enhance Morgana’s natural beauty by emphasizing her striking eyes and contrasting with her full red lips.

“Wherever I go,” she says quietly, “rest assured I will always be dressed like a lady.”

Uther ignores it. “See her vanity for what it truly is: the cry of a virgin girl, begging to be fucked.”

More laughs.

“I would deflower the poor thing myself, but I must keep the oath I swore her lord father, so I have appointed Prince Arthur to act in my stead.”

A cheer rises, and Gwen doesn’t need to turn around to know the crown prince is being escorted inside. But she does anyway, out of respect. Arthur looks just as perfect as she recalls, though dressed simply in trousers and a dark blue tunic. His jaw is set, and he pointedly avoids making eye contact with her, fixating on Uther instead.

He halts next to her and bows awkwardly. “Father.”

Uther inclines his head. “Arthur. You remember what we discussed?”

“Yes, sire,” he says stiffly.

“Good. Get on with it, then.” Uther spins on his heel.

Arthur grimaces. “I can’t just ... fuck her,” he finishes, weakly.

“And why not? If you can’t get it up for Morgana, then I have little hope for your manhood.”

Arthur’s face darkens. “I have known Morgana since we were children. Surely there is some other way to punish her that is less... cruel. To both of us.”

“My decision is final. Fuck the girl. Or if you haven’t the balls for it...”

Arthur snaps, a harsh growl rumbling in his throat as he lunges for her. He pulls her to him so hard that they slam together, her breasts crushed against his chest as he claims her mouth. She snakes her arms around him and kisses him back, because it feels... good.

He owls one eye open to gauge his father’s reaction. Uther looks unimpressed, so he flips her, thrusts against her ass like he’s fucking her. The knights cheer him on while Gwen flushes, surprised to feel that he’s hard already.

He yanks her panties down and she watches a string of something sticky stretch from the fabric to her... to down there. He reaches a hand up between her legs and she squirms as his fingers stroke her, sliding wetly against the sparse, dark hair there and oh god she is... she’s... wet. The sting of his finger pushing inside has her spasming around him, shuddering, gasping in pleasure.

She slumps weakly in his arms and he lowers her, whispering shakily in her ear. “It’ll be easier for you now..."

Gwen shuts her eyes, whimpering.

 

71.

*

Gwen shifts in her seat, biting her lip as she tries not to let any sound escape.

Morgana is _evil_.

It’d sounded fun, and sexy, when she suggested it. Not to mention that Gwen would agreed to anything with Morgana three fingers deep in her cunt and sucking on her neck. It’d sounded, well, _naughty_ in a way that Gwen sometimes wishes she had the courage to be more often. So she’d grinned at Morgana, kissed her deeply, and said “Fuck yes.”

In retrospect, it may have been a hasty decision.

Morgana takes another bite of her salad, looking supremely unconcerned as she pretends to pay attention to Uther’s long-winded story about some executive vice president who’d been caught in a huge financial scandal. The fingers of her left hand are curled around the small, flat remote control that is causing Gwen so much struggle. 

She shifts again, the slight change in position causing the vibration to shift just right against her clit, and she chokes around a moan, her hand darting out to grab her wine glass, just for something to hold on to.

“Are you alright, Gwen?” Arthur asks from across the table, turning from his father to look at her in concern.

“Mm, yes, fine,” she says, her voice surprisingly even. “Just, uh, swallowed wrong.” She shoots him a smile and takes a sip of wine. Morgana doesn’t even glance at her, but the corner of her mouth tilts up slightly.

Gwen sets her glass down and takes a deep, slow breath. She’s not sure if it’s how shamelessly, utterly public this is, or if it’s the sensation of being completely at Morgana’s mercy, but the embarrassment and want curls hot under her skin, makes her pulse race, getting her wet, just as much as the pulses of vibration in her underwear.

The conversation swirls and she pays almost no attention to it, unable to focus on anything but the sensations coursing through her. That is, until she catches her name. 

“Oh, Gwen’s been very interested in the whole debate, she’s been following it quite closely,” Morgana’s saying and oh, _fuck_ no, she cannot be expected to carry out a conversation in this state. Morgana turns to look at her, and to anyone else her smile may just look normal, but Gwen can see the smirk at the corner of her red lips, the gleam in her eyes.

It’s probably shameful that that turns her on even more.

“Sorry, what was that? I must have drifted off,” she says, grabbing Morgana’s thigh and squeezing. 

She manages to stumble though a response, intelligible enough that no one comments and the conversation drifts away again. Thank god. 

She’s rocking ever-so-slightly into the sensation now, she’s so close, just hovering on the edge. She’s sweating, probably looks like she’s ill, her lips bitten-red and her cheeks flushed. All she needs is a little something, a little _more_ , and she can come, if only Morgana would - 

“Yes, Gwen’s been great about it,” Morgana’s saying to Arthur now. “Hasn’t complained once.”

Gwen hasn’t a clue what she’s talking about, but as she turns to ask, Morgana slids her finger across the remote, switching the vibrator to the highest setting, and leans over and kisses Gwen behind the hear, exactly where she’s most sensitive.

Gwen comes.

She squeezes her thighs together and sucks in a huge breath, her back going rigid and her fingers digging hard into Morgana’s thigh. Morgana’s still talking, presumably diverting attention away from Gwen, since it’s taking everything she has just to stay still and quiet. It feels so fucking good, and it keeps going, wave after wave, as Morgana gradually dials back the intensity of the vibrations until Gwen feels loose and trembly, wanting nothing more than to collapse into Morgana’s side and go to sleep. 

*

“Make sure you get some rest,” Arthur tells her when they say goodnight, his own curious mixture of gentle and commanding. “You seemed a little out of it tonight.”

“I will” she says with a smile. Morgana threads their fingers together and tugs at her hand.

“Alright, gotta go put my girl to bed,” she says, winking, and Gwen rolls her eyes and follows her to the waiting cab.

“You’re evil,” she informs her as they climb into it. “Pure, unadulterated evil.”

“You love it,” Morgana says, leaning over to kiss her.

Gwen kind of does.

 

72.

 

Merlin was officially, as of this very moment, done.

He collapsed onto the couch of their fancy hotel room and watched, glumly, as Arthur edited and re-edited his speech for the umpteenth time. He hadn't even bothered to take off his bloody _tie_.

So far Merlin had tried bribery, threats and persuasion; but nothing worked. Clearly he was left with only one choice.

He extended his leg and, with his bare toe, poked Arthur's thigh.

No reaction.

He poked again.

Several pokes later, he had Arthur's attention in the form of a distracted "hmph". A few more times, and Arthur waved his hand about, trying to swat Merlin away.

One more, and Arthur's hand closed around Merlin's foot.

"Stop being annoying," he said, absent-minded. Merlin had a sharp retort at the tip of his tongue - but he bit it back.

Arthur was - perhaps unknowingly - rubbing his thumb along the sole of Merlin's foot. The touch was slow and soothing, and it made Merlin's toes curl on their own accord.

He bit his lip. But Arthur, of course, did not stop there. His fingers, feather-light and gentle, danced over the soft pad of the foot, rubbing in tiny circles. They toyed with Merlin's toes and then crept up towards his ankle, sliding under the hem of Merlin's jeans.

Merlin stifled a gasp.

"You have a tattoo," Arthur murmured, discovering the small black dragon encircling Merlin's ankle. "Why didn't I know?"

"You never looked," Merlin said, praying for his voice to remain steady.

Arthur nodded. Then he bent his head down and manouvred Merlin's leg until he had the dragon at eye level.

"It's pretty," he said, tracing the silhouette with his index finger.

And then he kissed Merlin's ankle.

Merlin could do nothing to stifle the broken half-moan that followed.

Arthur offered a self-satisfied little smirk, the one that meant he had discovered a weakness and would do everything to exploit it.

He kissed his way down, his mouth hot and insistent the way his fingers hadn't been. He licked a stripe over the pad of the toes; and then he closed his mouth around the big one and sucked.

Merlin whimpered. His cock was rigid, straining the tight fabric of his jeans, but Arthur paid it no mind, opting instead to continue fellating Merlin's toes like somebody's life depended on it.

And maybe - Merlin thought, when a particular swirl of Arthur's tongue made him throw back his head and groan - maybe it did.

He laid back, boneless, while Arthur stripped him of his jeans and T-shirt, to expose more of Merlin's skin, just waiting to be kissed and touched. He bypassed Merlin's cock in favour of mouthing at his inner thigh and then up, up his chest. By the time he reached Merlin's neck, Merlin was a hot, whimpering mess, and Arthur--

Arthur was still wearing his stupid bloody tie.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, his body pressing down on Merlin's. Merlin valiantly resisted the urge to hump Arthur's muscled thigh.

"Hardly," he lied. "I've had better..."

Arthur growled and went down on him proper, holding nothing back - intent, apparently, on ruining Merlin forever for other man.

And Merlin, fool that he was, let him.

 

73.

 

“You’re doing very well, Sir Lancelot.”

“Thank you, my lady, that means a great deal coming from you,” Lancelot bowed his head gratefully. “I have been working to my fullest ability.” Morgana grinned and squeezed his knee. “Yes, yes,” she cooed. “I know, dearest Lancelot, and your hard work is most definitely showing. However,” She turned her head and pouted. “Well, what was it you first told me when I gave you the precious gift of your life back?” She peeked up at him from the corner of her eyes.

Lancelot looked thoughtful for a moment then spoke. “I told you… I told you that I am yours to command.”

“Yes,” she pulled the word. “That’s what it was.” Morgana stood up and walk around him, letting her hand run up his arm and rest on his shoulder. A shiver ran through him. “And you want me to be happy, don’t you?” Her words trickled through his ears like velvet.

“More than anything, my lady.” he grabbed her hand. Morgana chuckled softly and took his hand off of her. She knelt down beside him, running a hand through his hair. “Then you will do every single thing I tell you to do.”

“Of course.” 

Morgana loomed over him. She hiked up her dress and climbed onto his lap.

“My lady-“ She laid a finger over his lips. “Shh.” Slowly she lowered her finger, his eyes following. “Let me make something completely understood, Lancelot.” Her voice was severe and hushed; their faces were merely centimeters apart. “I will take care of you. I will feed you and clothe you and make certain you are well-prepared but you will also do whatever I tell you to do. I say jump, you jump. Understood?” Without a word, Lancelot nodded.

“Good.” Climbing off of him, she made a point to rub herself nice and hard over the growing bulge in his trousers. Morgana smirked as a deep, throaty groan came up his throat. “Now I want you to go lie on my bed.” Lancelot sat for a moment, still in shock. “Now!” Morgana barked. 

He rushed over, not making eye contact with her. Up until then she had been kind and patient with and never once raised her voice. He loved her more than anything or anyone else he could think of but he had not feared her. Morgana could sense his growing fear and was feeding off of it. Seeing the change in the way he looked at her (or didn’t) and watching him pick his movements so carefully made her all tingly.

As soon as Lancelot lay down he could feel an invisible force push down on him. Morgana stood over him running the back of her hand down his cheek. “Good boy,” she cooed. She crawled over him and straddled his lap, pushing her hands up his shirt then bringing them back down stopping right at the edge of his pants. With nimble fingers she unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down slowly. Her eyes glistened with lust. “Oh, how delightful,” she whispered. “Lancelot the noble.” She leaned down toward his cock and hovered over it with an open mouth. Her hot breath on his member made him grasp the sheets impatiently. “Would you like me to continue?” 

“Yes, my lady. Very much so.” He breathed. Morgana’s eyes glowed and a pulsating pain shot up Lancelot’s spine. He writhed on the bed. “Say. Please.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Please!” he begged. She released him. “That’s more like it.”

Morgana leaned forward letting her lips touch his ear. “Now, Sir Lancelot, are you a virgin?”

“Y-yes.” With a snap of her fingers the same pain rushed through him again. “Yes, who?”

“Yes, my lady!” he quickly corrected.

“Well then,” she continued. “I want you to make me a promise.”

“Anything, my lady.” He told her out of breath.

“You will not cum until I tell you to do so. Are we clear?”

He swallowed. The fabric of her dress draping over his cock was driving him crazy. “Yes, my lady. Of course, my lady. Please, I’m begging you.”

She grinned. “Such a good, good boy. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

 

74.

 

Hearing the door lock behind him sent an instant shiver down Merlin's back. He quickly turned around to face Arthur who was looking at him with that inscrutable expression.

"Strip." Arthur commanded.

Merlin blushed in response. He still hated it when Arthur ordered him in that authoritative voice of his. But his fingers started to work on the button and zip of his trousers all the same.  
He toed off his worn converse before stepping out of his kit entirely, all the while keeping his eyes away from Arthur. The tiled floor felt cold underneath his bear feet. 

Before he could fold his clothes and leave the on top of the toilet seat, Arthur snatched his jeans and shoved a banknote into its front pocket. Merlin didn't even know how much Arthur was paying him... Fifty... One hundred… Five hundred... For Arthur, money had little importance. Merlin simply took whatever he offered. 

Arthur didn’t undress, only taking out his cock from his boxers. It was flushed and half-hard already. Merlin stared at it until he heard a small huff of laughter coming from Arthur. He looked away embarrassed, futilely willing his own growing erection away.

"Come here then, Merlin, don't be shy." 

Merlin swallowed as he stepped into Arthur's personal space, conscious of his awkward, naked limbs. When he was close enough to touch, Arthur reached his arms around him; palming his buttocks and pressing Merlin close so their groins were touching. They both moaned at the contact. Arthur kissed him then, greedy kisses that had already grown familiar. Hips bucking, Merlin quickly caught the intention. He pushed back into the thrusts, spreading his legs a little wider. When he curled his leg around Arthur’s knee for leverage, the fabric of his jeans felt rough against his bare skin. 

When the friction still wasn’t enough, he used his hand he to touch both their erections, palming the moist tip of Arthur's cock and pulling them closer together. Arthur made the most beautiful sounds of pleasure at that and yes they were crazy for doing this. Someone could walk in any second. Even if they had strategically picked the girls' bathrooms for their ‘meetings’ (the cubicles were larger and girls were less likely to hang out there during classes). 

He was way beyond caring. That was probably what scared Merlin most. How he could positively lose himself in this. 

"No... We agreed..." Merlin choked out when suddenly one of Arthur's hands dipped between his buttocks to finger the rim of his arse. A feeling akin to an electric shock surged through Merlin's body at the too intimate gesture. But his body was already betraying him, pressing back against the intruding fingers.

“Just let me...” Suddenly the fingers were gone and Merlin let out a little shocked moan. Instead, Arthur was putting the fingers into his mouth, sucking them while making little obscene noises. Merlin watched transfixed until the fingers were back, breaching the rim without hesitance. One slick - not slick enough - finger pushed in and out of his body, then another one was added, stretching him, pushing deeper and faster. Merlin moaned, cock twitching and damned Arthur for noticing, for growling into Merlin’s mouth as they kissed and sucked and clung to each other, the friction between their cocks growing more heated, almost painfully so. 

A third finger was toying with the rim of Merlin's arse, but before it could join the other two, Arthur gasped, pulling his fingers out and using his hand to steady himself against the wall while the other hand went to his cock, tugging once, twice before coming all over Merlin's groin. Merlin whined at the sudden loss of friction and the unbearably empty feeling that was left by Arthur's fingers. But after a few seconds of catching his breath, Arthur was back. Kissing Merlin's lips and neck wetly, his hand reached for Merlin's cock, slick from Arthur’s seed.

"Next time I _will_ fuck you," Arthur murmured into Merlin's neck as he brought Merlin to completion with several quick, hard tugs.

"Yes," Merlin said breathlessly as he spilled over Arthur's hand. "Yes."

He watched Arthur smooth his hair and zip up his fly not quite wanting to know what he'd just agreed to. Only knowing with dead certainty that, yes, next time he was going to let Arthur fuck him. Maybe then he would finally have the guts to tell Arthur that he no longer wanted him to pay.

 

75.

 

Merlin woke to a sharp knock followed by the creak of a door opening. His eyes snapped open. He remembered falling asleep in his own bed, but that wasn’t where he was currently.

He’d been celebrating heartily at Lady Folsom’s parting feast, far too happy to see her go. During her stay, her décolletage and extensive land ownership had enamoured Arthur to the point of stupidity. Merlin had done his best not to hate her, but failed.

Overhearing Arthur’s whispered, “Keep your door unlocked if you’d like company this evening,” had been the last straw. He’d grabbed a tankard and left. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep had been bitter with envy, his mind full of wishes of what could never be.

Now it seemed he was in Lady Folsom’s chambers, possibly still drunk as the night shift he was wearing was lacy and foreign, the _breasts_ it covered even more foreign. Frantic, Merlin patted his face and felt smooth skin and a delicate bone structure that was not his own.

“Good evening, m’lady.”

Merlin’s eyes darted to the person whose knock had woken him. “Arthur!” Lady Folsom’s delicate cadence had never sounded so panicked. He couldn’t explain how he’d gotten here, in Lady Folsom’s bed, in her _body_. He’d be arrested for sorcery, surely. He quite liked his head, even if it wasn’t his own at the moment.

Arthur crept across the room, a single candle lighting his way and a smile on his face softer than Merlin had ever had the privilege of seeing before. Merlin regretted being in no frame of mind to enjoy it.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight.” Arthur sat on the bed, twisting his fingers around one of the thick black ringlets which fell to Merlin’s shoulders.

 _Please go,_ he needed to say.

But Arthur’s fingers lingered over the long curls, very intentionally grazing Merlin’s breast. Suddenly overcome with an intense flush, the easiest of excuses fled his mind.

Arthur brushed his knuckles against fullness of the mound then down Merlin’s side. “Is this all right?”

“Yes,” Merlin said, breathless. Guilt and lust twisted together inside his stomach. He was so close to everything he wanted, but worlds away from it. As Arthur leaned in to kiss him, heat pooled low in his belly and lust won out.

“Are you nervous?”

Lady Folsom was a strong, confident women. Merlin realized Arthur was not expected a blushing virgin. He had to stop this now or act the part. “Are _you_?”

Arthur chuckled, delighted. Merlin surged forward needing to capture that smile for himself.

Gasping, Arthur pulled back just enough to soften the kiss then deepen it. They shifted as they kissed, Merlin falling back onto the mattress with Arthur on top of him, settled between his legs as if he belonged there. Merlin was wet, hot and throbbing where Arthur was pressed against him. 

It made him dizzy with want; he titled hips. The sound Arthur made as they began to rock together was like nothing Merlin had ever heard before. He felt bolder, freer than he’d ever felt. It didn’t matter that this body wasn’t his own, that it was a _women’s_ body. He felt no shame as he began to tug at Arthur’s clothes.

It was _him_ making Arthur come apart, making Arthur curse and rip at the seams of his clothes to get them off faster.

Arthur entered him and Merlin’s control disappeared, his leg spreading wider, urging Arthur deeper. The pace wasn’t gentle. Arthur’s cock filled him, the hard rhythm leaving Merlin buzzing, racing to completion. He scratched Arthur’s back, urging him on, his orgasm just out of reach.

Arthur paused, panting and resting his forehead to Merlin’s shoulder to catch his breath.

Merlin wriggled beneath him. “Don’t stop now, you clotpole.”

Arthur’s eyes widened for just a second and Merlin had a flash of panic. But Arthur began again, pounding into Merlin with the ferocity he usually reserved for the battlefield.

Merlin came, chanting Arthur’s name, his mouth spilling God knew what. When Arthur finally began to tremble with his release, he clung to Merlin like he may never let go. Merlin shattered to realised it wasn’t _him_ Arthur was holding so dearly.

~

Merlin woke in his own bed, in his own body. Arthur lay naked at his side.

Arthur’s eyebrows lifted comically high. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Merlin?”

 

76.

 

The towel hangs low on Arthur's hip as he makes his way into the sauna. He can hear soft moans from the men around him, hushed breaths against skin. The air is heavy with steam and heat from the bodies moving around the room. To Arthur's right, there's a man on his knees sucking someone off against the wall. Faces blur together as Arthur makes his way to the back rooms, sounds blended together until it's a continuous string of pleasure in the air.

Sex, Arthur thinks, is like art.

He has a boy with blond hair and wide green eyes on his knees in front of him. The red of the boy's mouth is stark against his pale skin, the tips of his ears turn pink from effort. His tongue feels like silk against Arthur's cock and he digs his fingers into the boy's hair to ground himself. Waves of pleasure rip through Arthur's back and he wants to push this boy down on the black tiled floor, open him up and take everything.

He doesn't.

-

There is a boy with dark hair and blue eyes that never takes just one. Arthur watches the curve of the boy's back as the man behind him fucks into him. There are going to be bruises on the boy's hips from the fingers digging in, teeth marks in between the boy's legs.

There's another man, this one with wild eyes and a cheeky grin, that's working his cock in and out of the boy's mouth. The two men move together so that they both press in at the same time. Arthur waits in his corner and it's almost like he can feel what the boy feels, a cock down his throat, as far as it can go, pushing him back into the lap of another man. The boy is stuck there between two pressing forces, and he just takes it, goes limp as he's used.

Arthur listens to the gasps ripped from the boy's mouth. He hears the moans, and he drowns in them.

-

His name is Merlin and Arthur has to share him.

He comes at Arthur with wild blue eyes and quick hands that find their way beneath Arthur's towel. His mouth curves into a smile when Arthur just goes with him. The light in the room casts shadows on Merlin's face, throws half of it into darkness, and it all seems so appropriate.

They are strangers with names that mean nothing, two men fucking because to fuck is to live. Arthur needs this, the feel of skin underneath his fingers, miles of flesh that he can bruise, mark, paint with his teeth. He needs the tightness around his cock, the sounds ripped out from Merlin's throat when Arthur fucks him.

Anonymity is what keeps this place running, faceless fucks against walls. Arthur knows that today he's the one fucking Merlin, but there will be someone else tomorrow. It makes him push faster, harder, until the entire room is filled with their screams, until his hands feel nothing but Merlin underneath him. He's desperate, shaking as he pushes Merlin down harder onto the floor. Arthur reaches for the wall, uses it to lever himself up as he pushes harder into Merlin. He watches Merlin's hands scrambling against the floor for purchase.

It pleases him, so he does it again and again, until Merlin is screaming beneath him. Until Arthur takes everything. And it isn't enough, not until Arthur comes on Merlin's back, not until he digs his fingers into the mess there and presses hard, harder until he can almost believe that the bruise will stay forever.

It never does.

 

77.

\---

"You should have said something earlier, Guinevere," Morgana whispers. 

"You're a-" Gwen pauses, struggling to focus. Morgana watches her, fingers trailing down Gwen's smooth skin, pressing just enough to cause the flush on her cheeks to deepen. 

"I'm a what, darling?" Morgana prompts, when Gwen can't continue. 

"A teacher!" she finally gasps "And-"

"I still have desires, darling,." And Morgana strokes over the small of Gwen's back, the tips of her fingers brushing over the swell of her ass, until Gwen has forgotten everything except Morgana. 

"You can't come just from this," Morgana comments. "You're sensitive, but not that sensitive."

\---

Morgana reaches out to steady Gwen when she stumbles over a cord. She trails her hand down the girl's back, and gets rewarded with a gasp. 

"Be careful," she tells Gwen and puts everything out of her mind. It's not until later, when Morgana is home, that she thinks about Gwen and that soft, startled gasp. Her lips had parted so beautifully around that sound. Morgana wants to hear more. Wants to hear what other noises the girl can make. 

-

Gwen hides behind clothes just a little too big and too heavy to let Morgana do anything. So she endeavours to get Gwen out of the layers of her clothing. 

"She can use the help," Morgana tells Mr. and Mrs. Leodegrance, during conferences. "She's very talented and with extra tutoring, she can easily get into any university she wants." 

Morgana never lies; she twists the truth to suit her needs. They thank Morgana profusely, promising that Gwen will start her extra lessons the very next day.

\---

Morgana drags her fingers over Gwen's ass, pulling her panties down, and slides a finger inside the girl. That's all it takes, just a finger curling inside her, and Gwen is coming apart around her, sobbing Morgana's name. Morgana watches her, entranced, and thinks about everything she can teach Gwen. Thinks about the skin on display and how beautiful it will look with Morgana's marks. A tattoo in the middle of her back, inches from the spine.

Morgana will be there to hold her during it and take her home after, fan the arousal and soothe the pain.

\---

Trust from a high school girl, naive and sweet and shy, is easily gained. Morgana touches Gwen more, strokes her fingers across Gwen's shoulders, cups the nape of her neck, presses against her shoulder blades. Gwen says nothing, just bites down on her lip to hide her gasps. She always flushes so beautifully when it happens, and avoids eye contact.

They move slowly, Gwen caught unaware in Morgana's trap, and Morgana biding her time. 

-

It's one of those sweltering early spring days, where a heatwave tricks the plants into blooming and students into shedding heavy winter clothes for lighter materials. Morgana can see the sheen of sweat along the back of her neck, in the hollow of her clavicles. 

"You're sweating," Morgana comments. Gwen startles, reaches up to touch the back of her neck, lovely red flush crawling up her cheeks. "I am too. Since it's just us two girls, we can remove our shirts." Morgana unbuttons her blouse, shrugging it off before Gwen can say anything. "Well? Go on. Take off your shirt."

The blush deepens, but she reaches for the buttons.

"Good girl." Morgana helps pull it off, standing to walk around Gwen. For the first time, she can touch Gwen's bare skin, burning beneath her fingers. "Your back is sensitive, isn't it? Do you think about someone giving you a massage? Lancelot? Arthur?"

"Ms. Pendragon!"

"Well? Who do you think about?"

"I - um - Neither-"

"Neither?" Morgana pauses behind Gwen, slides her fingers around Gwen's neck, tilts her chin up. "Is it someone else you think about, touching you? Dragging their hands down your back and making you moan?"

Gwen's eyes are dark, filled with shame and desire.

"Oh darling," Morgana says. "You should have said something earlier." 

\---

"You can't come like this yet." Morgana lets her fingers rest against the small of Gwen's back. "But you're a talented girl. I know you can learn."

 

78.

 

“Today, in honor of Lady Vivian on the occasion of her marriage, we tell the Story of the Lady.”

This is absolutely mad. Gwen shuffles her feet awkwardly, her toes scrunching the blankets on the floors. Her eyes flick from ceiling to floor, because there’s nowhere to look that isn’t naked flesh.

“Every woman has a lady betwixt her legs.”

Queen Annis is presiding over these ridiculous proceedings in an embellished nightgown, her voice floating forcefully over the gathering . The rest of them—all of the ladies who had come for Vivian’s wedding—are clustered naked around Vivian in her bed. Gwen’s shoulder is pressed against Princess Mithian’s, and Lady Elena is across the bed, arm in arm with some other girls. Vivian herself is also nude, her skin and hair shiny with the oils they’d rubbed in with their fingers. 

“…a beautiful but occasionally timid lady whom you must woo with respect and restraint. You must stroke her home,”—and here Gwen snaps her glare away from Vivian, oh dear God, what is Annis _doing_ to her—“…and compliment its fine appointments and ask the lady’s permission to enter. Vivian?”

“I give permission,” Vivian says. She looks relaxed and happy, legs spread with abandon, clearly enjoying all of the attention.

Before this started, everyone had bathed together, which was not so odd. Gwen spent years sharing bathwater with her fellow maids. But tonight was clearly not meant for bathing. Women wandered around the room naked, sipping strong wine, and still, absurdly, addressing each other as Lady This and Princess That. The fire in the hearth roared heartily, and everyone in the room dripped with water, or bath oils, or sweat.

And now, here they are, apparently having some sort of Roman orgy that every noblewoman but her has done before.

Even with her eyes on the bed hangings, Gwen notices when Annis puts both her palms against Vivian’s mound and urges her thighs apart, and Vivian obligingly lifts her knees up. Annis uses her fingers to part the curly hair and skin. “Inside the house lives the lady in the cloak. See? At the top is her head, covered in her hood, and her robes.”

Gwen tries not to look, but everyone else is craning their necks and Mithian makes an interested noise beside her, so she risks a glance. And then another. She has never seen a vagina so exposed before. She’s never even seen her own, and she wonders if she looks like that, all pink and blooming. It does look a bit like a woman in a cloak, with a pink nub encased in a hood that ripples down like a flowing dress.

“As you touch her more and more tenderly along her robes and her body and her house, she will begin to show her face.”

Annis’ fingers make a careful, rolling pinch around the so-called ‘head,’ and Vivian’s breath turns shallow. Even with the embarrassment burning in Gwen’s face, she can feel herself beginning to respond.

“And then, when she is ready, you may ask the favor of a kiss. My lady?”

“Please,” Vivian whines.

Gwen assumes that “kiss” is another metaphor, so she is completely unprepared for the moment when Annis bends and puts her thin lips against that swollen, pink spot. Vivian gasps. Annis moves her lips and purses them and makes a circle with her mouth, and then, oh—

“Remember that all the best kisses include tongues,” Annis whispers throatily before opening her mouth over Vivian’s cunt and licking.

God.

Gwen’s focus is so riveted that she startles when she notices that some of the women around her are moving, their hands working below waist level. Lady Elena is rocking her hips, and Gwen feels a shock go down her spine when she realizes it’s because the woman behind her has her fingers up Elena’s cunt.

“Your Majesty?” Mithian whispers at her shoulder.

Gwen can’t take her eyes off the way Vivian’s feet are flexing, but she becomes doubly aware of the slick between her legs when Mithian’s fingers brush low against her hip.

“Usually, this is when….” Mithian clears her throat, but the undulating, groaning women around them make her point for her. “May I?”

It takes two tries to swallow, Gwen’s throat is so dry. “All right.”

Mithian drops to her knees, and then, surprisingly, everything becomes quite simple: the sight of Elena’s bouncing beasts, the sound of Vivian’s screams, the feel of Mithian’s perfect, pointed tongue.

 

79.

 

“Oh my god, Gwaine! What’re you doing?” Merlin hisses. He can’t believe what he’s seeing—his friend’s fat cock sticking over the elastic waist of his jogging bottoms, the head barely hidden under his jersey. Merlin gulps and his face flushes. It’s not like he’s never seen another boy’s dick before, but never erect (in real life), and certainly not in a coach full of their footie mates. Anyone could turn around at any second and get an eyeful, and Gwaine will probably get arrested and Merlin’s mum will find out he’s a poof and—

Gwaine grins at him. “Relax. We’ve been stuck in this bloody traffic for hours. I’m bored.” 

Merlin glances around at the other boys to see if anyone else notices. Percy and Leon are in the seat in front of them listening to music. In the seat to the right, Arthur sleeps with his golden head braced against the window. Merlin’s stomach does a little flip, as it always does. Stupid, perfect prat. 

“Mmmm. Feels good.” 

At that, Merlin’s gaze drifts back down to where Gwaine’s hand moves up and down, so slowly that Merlin can see the thick ridge of his cockhead appear through his fist on every stroke. The pretence of the jersey has been entirely abandoned. The skin under Merlin’s arms prickles and starts to sweat. And Gwaine’s still bloody _talking_ —

“Don’t you ever just get so horny when you’re sharing a room with the other guys? Percy’s got a big, thick one, you know? Wish he’d let me beat it off.” 

“Shut up . . . he’ll hear you!” Merlin whispers. His own erection is noticeable no matter how he tries to hide it, stupid jersey bottoms. He shifts uncomfortably and tries to tear his eyes away. Gwaine has a nice dick, but it’s the foreskin that mesmerises Merlin, unveiling and then covering the shiny head on each pass. Gwaine seems to know what he’s doing. He pinches the loose skin and sighs in pleasure as it drags over his cock. Merlin’s dick twitches in sympathy. 

“You’ve got a chub going too, eh, mate? You wanna feel mine?” 

Merlin’s mouth goes dry. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, he’s sixteen for Christ’s sake, but Gwaine’s his friend and doing _that_ with him seems weird. It’s stupid, but Merlin has always imagined waiting for someone special. If he told Gwaine, he’d laugh. No way would Arthur fancy someone like Merlin, anyway.

“Gwaine, we can’t.” But Gwaine laces their fingers together and urges Merlin to wrap his hand around his length. It feels a lot like Merlin’s own dick, but different—velvety smooth and hot, but fatter and not quite as long. Merlin gives it an experimental stroke and Gwaine groans in his ear. Bugger it, if he keeps that up they’re going to get caught. 

“Yeah, just like that.”

It doesn’t take long to get the hang of it—he’s done it enough to himself—but having another boy in his hand, holy shit, he’s really doing this. Feeling daring, Merlin leaves off to wet his palm and then brings it back to Gwaine, who surprises him by pulling his shirt up to unveil a flat plane of belly. 

“Don’t want to get jizz on it,” Gwaine explains with a shrug. “My mum’ll kill me.” 

“Oh, right.” The sight makes Merlin forget they’re still on the bus. Gwaine’s cock seems to grow bigger and more swollen by the second. It leaks all over Merlin’s hand, and a mad thought occurs to him—putting his mouth on it. What would it taste like? 

“Let me touch you, too,” Gwaine says. 

“Um. Okay.” 

Gwaine slips his hand down the front of Merlin’s bottoms. In an instant, Merlin’s aching boner is gripped in a sure fist. He tries not to whimper. It’s an awkward angle but it feels so good, Merlin’s hips shift without his consent. 

Gwaine nips at his ear. “Yeah, you’re gonna make me come.” 

Those words push Merlin over the edge. One, two seconds, and he shoots his load right into his y-fronts. Gwaine follows moments behind with a _lot_ of jizz. It goes everywhere; a streak even lands on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Whoops.” Gwaine dabs at it. “Sorry about that, mate.”

Merlin thinks about asking Gwaine how in the world he can still talk when a soft sound makes him jerk his head to the right. 

Arthur is watching them from under his lashes with dark eyes.

 

80.

 

It was their first night back in Camelot after a grueling campaign so opening his door to find his chambers full of Knights filled Merlin with frustration. He was exhausted, cold, and achy, his magic spent from being overworked these last three weeks, and he had been looking forward to _finally_ returning to the bed he shared with Arthur. Merlin felt his magic sparking angrily at his fingertips, only to flare up hotly when he took in the sight before him.

Each of the Knights had laid down his red cape, arranged in a sea of crimson in front of the fire. In the center lay the king, stripped down to his skin and stroking himself, writhing wantonly as his Chosen looked on. Arthur's skin _shone_ in the firelight, copper and shadow battling to lay claim to every inch of him. His hair was a halo of gold, damp with sweat where it brushed his cheeks. It had grown long in their time away and Merlin's fingers flexed with the desire to take hold of it. 

_How could I forget how beautiful he is like this?_

In the battlefield, the king was all hard lines and muscle and steel, aged by stress and weariness.  
But here, the king became his Arthur again. He was softer and more pliant, far more relaxed and almost the prince Merlin had first met. The lines around his eyes melted away and the grim set of his lips went slack as he took his pleasure. It seemed years since Merlin had seen his lover like this and he found himself rooted to the spot, aching in his breeches and unable to look away. It wasn't until someone dropped to their knees and obscured his view that Merlin let his eyes take in the rest.

The Knights were still more-or-less dressed for battle, their clothes still filthy with blood and earth. Some wore only breeches and boots, while others had hastily pushed to their breeches to their knees so that they could get at their cocks. The only things missing were their swords and mail, ferried off to the armoury for cleaning, and the capes upon which Arthur lay. Merlin didn't know if they were meant to remain clothed or if they just hadn't bothered to undress. Save Leon, they were each stroking themselves at a near violent pace so Merlin was inclined to believe it was the latter. 

From behind Percival's broad back, King's lower body was still visible, the muscles in his thighs shifting and bunching as he strained towards release. As Arthur's toes curled and flexed against the red fabric, Percival let out a groan and shuddered, the muscles in his back rippling as he spent himself. He lingered a moment, breathing heavily and murmuring to Arthur, before resuming his place with the others. Merlin had to grip himself through his breeches to keep from spending himself where he stood.

_Gods be good..._

Percival had painted his release across Arthur's upturned cheeks and the sight of it made Merlin's blood race hot through his veins. The same must have been true for the Knights because it wasn't long until they were each spending themselves in turn, their collective seed covering Arthur's face. Thick stripes covered his collarbones and others splashed against his lips, his bottom one still puffy and bruised where he'd taken a sharp blow.

Sir Leon was the last to spend. Merlin noticed that he held back until the others were done, fisting himself almost lazingly as he gazed down at Arthur with a strange look of tenderness and determination. As the others returned to their places, Leon knelt and clutched the back of Arthur's neck almost reverently. 

“Sire...”

Leon stroked the head of his cock across the King's lips once before pressing inside slowly, uttering a low oath as Arthur sucked firmly before beginning to thrust. He stilled not long after, taking his release in silence. Arthur continued to suck gently, easing off only when Leon gave a slight hiss. 

Lying on his back, his cock still hard between his legs, Arthur finally opened his eyes to acknowledge his Knights with a grin. It was the first time Merlin had seen him smile in weeks and for a moment arousal took second to the fondness he felt. But Merlin's arousal flared hotly when Arthur's lust-darkened eyes settled on him. He gave Merlin a smirk as he resumed stroking himself and Merlin reached for his laces as he strode forward...

 

81.

 

Merlin and Arthur and as much PWP as possible.

~o~

Arthur slams the door shut behind him without looking, and pins Merlin to the wall, rutting against him and kissing hard.

“Want you, _god_ , Arthur.” Merlin moans between kisses, fumbling with Arthur’s pants. Arthur pulls back, his eyes dark with arousal and overwhelming lust. Merlin gulps at the sight.

“Go over there, by the sinks and take off your pants.” Arthur commands, his voice surprisingly steady. “I want to see you bent over, just waiting for me to take you.” Merlin whimpers and scrambles to obey.

Hands shaking, Merlin barely has any time to tug down his pants before Arthur’s hands are on him again, pushing up his shirt and caressing everywhere.

“Someday,” Arthur murmurs, his hands trailing lower and lower as Merlin drops his head forward with a groan, “you’re going to tell me all about this,” and pauses to lick the inked bird on Merlin’s shoulder blade, causing Merlin to shiver and push back against Arthur. 

“Get on with it, you tease.” Merlin spits out between his harsh pants. 

“As you wish.” Arthur pushes in two slick fingers—how the _hell_ had he managed that?—into Merlin abruptly and Merlin jerks backward with a cry.

“Like that?,” and Merlin can feel Arthur’s trademark smirk, in the crook of his neck. Arrogant prat, he thinks before Arthur crooks his finger right _there_ and suddenly Merlin isn’t thinking anything at all except for the blinding pleasure thrumming under his skin. 

Merlin gasps, his hands gripping the sink until it hurts and he grinds back against Arthur, panting helplessly. 

“You love this don’t you,” says Arthur, his voice finally unsteady. “knowing that someone could walk in any second now, see you all hot and bothered, begging for it.”

“Fuck,” Merlin stutters, his hips stilling for a split second. Arthur snakes his arm around Merlin and begins to stroke his cock, hard and fast.

“Bet he’d come over to suck you off,” Arthur says filthy in Merlin’s ear. Merlin flushes scarlet and moans loudly. He can’t help imagining some dark faceless boy on his knees licking from the base of Merlin’s cock to the head, flitting his hot tongue over the slit before swallowing him whole. Merlin chokes.

He’s so close, so _fucking_ close. He opens his mouth to warn Arthur, just as Arthur grips his cock tightly. “Not yet,” he breathes into Merlin’s ear and Merlin wants to cry. 

And then, it’s so much better because Arthur is sliding his cock into where his fingers used to be. It’s almost too much for Merlin, but he’s always liked a little pain with his pleasure so he thrusts back, taking in more of Arthur, and hears Arthur’s strangled groan. Pleased with his power, he does it again—and again, building a brutal rhythm between them. 

He’s pretty sure he is babbling nonsense and punctuating it with _oh god, Arthur_ but Merlin can’t care less, especially when Arthur swivels his hips just right and sends the pleasure racing up Merlin’s spine.

Throwing his head back on a particularly hard thrust, Merlin catches a glimpse of them in the mirror and can’t tear his eyes away. Arthur, hair clinging to his face, mostly dressed and Merlin, his entire body flushed, mostly undressed, and suddenly it’s too much and he comes with a howl.

Behind him, Arthur stiffens and only then does Merlin realize that Arthur managed to put on a condom. Leaving Arthur to the clean up, Merlin concentrates on staying standing and coming down from his high. It’s not long before he’s clean, and Arthur arranges Merlin’s clothes to at least semi-decency, before kissing him senseless. 

“We should do this again,” Merlin says, casually threading his hand through Arthur’s hair. Arthur hums noncommittally, while his hands pull Merlin closer. Smiling, Merlin leans in and— 

“Are you boys all done in there?” a voice echoes from the other side of the restroom door, and they wrench apart. 

“ _Morgana!_ ” 

 

82.

 

Arthur collapses against the sheets. Merlin slowly pulls out and lies down next to him. When Arthur looks over he can see that Merlin’s is still extremely hard. His cock is thick and red against Merlin’s pale skin. Arthur itches to touch it. But when he moves closer to Merlin and reaches out, Merlin bats his hand away.

“I can do it.” Merlin says. His voice is strained and trembling.

Lying back down on the bed Arthur tries to keep back a frustrated groan. It had been like this ever since he had come back.

It had been a month since he had mysteriously returned from Avalon. He felt alive for the first time when Merlin wrapped his arms around him, holding him as if he would break or disappear at any moment. But he didn’t disappear. They had made love that very night. When they were done, Merlin always pulled away. If he hadn’t come inside Arthur, he would take care of himself. He would never allow Arthur to touch him the same way he touched Arthur. 

Arthur tried to be patient. But he wanted to be able to take care of Merlin and he didn’t know why Merlin wouldn’t allow him to do that.

Desperate Arthur crawled forward and took Merlin’s hand away from his cock. Merlin’s blue eyes look up at Arthur in shock as Arthur moves on top of him. “Arthur, what-”

“Merlin, why won’t you let me touch you?”

“Arthur, it’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.”

“Merlin, that’s not the way it is any more. I’m not your king. I’m much more than that...at least I hope I am.”

Merlin’s eyes well up. “I _need_ to take care of you. I don’t-” He sighs.

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t deserve to have you take care of me.”

“Merlin-”

“No, Arthur!” Banging his head against the pillow, Merlin squeezes his eyes shut. “I failed you, Arthur. I let you die.” Arthur starts to interrupt him, but Merlin opens his eyes and the depth of pain in his eyes, stops Arthur cold. “There were so many things that I should have done differently. I could have saved you if I had been better and smarter. But I wasn’t and you lost so many years. I need to make up for that, Arthur. I have to. Do you understand?” 

“Merlin, you amaze me! I know the kind of sacrifices that you made for me when we were in Camelot. You always put my needs ahead of your own and you have saved my life in ways that you can’t even imagine. You have _never_ failed me. If you want to make me happy, please believe that.”

Merlin bit his lip as a single tear fell. 

“Please, Merlin.” Arthur leans forward slowly and kisses Merlin’s cheek. “Let me take care of you now. Let me show you how much I love you? Please.”

Merlin just closes his eyes and nods his head almost imperceptibly.

As Arthur finally moves lower and kisses Merlin’s right nipple, he’s shocked when he sees Merlin’s half hard cock fill up quickly. Merlin pushes up against him as he lets out a breathy moan. Arthur licks against the nub slowly and Merlin’s cock is twitching now. 

Arthur looks up at Merlin. “Sensitive, are we?”

Merlin’s cheeks are pink and his gaze is hooded and coy. 

He doesn’t need Merlin to say anything, as he leans down and begins to suckle at Merlin’s chest, he gets his answer when Merlin practically lifts off the bed. Arthur reaches over and rubs Merlin’s left bud between his forefingers, squeezing lightly. He looks up and sees Merlin’s eyes rolling back in his head. 

He licks Merlin’s left nipple with slow, deliberate strokes and it hardens into a hard peak as Merlin continues to writhe and moan louder than he’s ever heard. As Arthur looks down he can see Merlin’s balls tighten and can tell he’s close to coming. Arthur leans back and rubs his thumbs against the nubs as he slowly rubs his crotch against Merlin’s hard cock.  
Merlin comes as he screams Arthur’s name loud and long. Ropes of come land against Merlin’s chest. Arthur licks him clean.

Merlin is breathing heavily as Arthur puts his head against Merlin’s chest, right above his heart. Arthur strokes his hand against Merlin’s chest as he comes down.

Merlin looks down at Arthur with hazy adoration. “Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur smiles and leans up to softly kiss Merlin. “No, thank you.”


	8. Group D (clean)

83.

 

 

84.

  


While Arthur and Merlin had enjoyed their weekend away from the prying eyes of their friends, who had no idea about their relationship in the first place, maybe they should had really thought about the people in question; chronically curious and no limit to their genius plans to follow their friends if there were secret getaways involved.

"Wait, what, you're taking PICTURES? PICTURES WHILE MY BEST FRIEND IS GETTING SHOWN TO HALF OF THE WORLD!?"

"Who are you anyway? Have to remember buy a new camera, this is dying on me. Gwaine, they still at it?"

"Oooooh yes. Maybe they should had known next to the open window isn't exactly most private place to go at it. Morgs, you'll give me some of those blackmailing photos, yes?"

"Not in this lifetime, I don't want you wanking to the pictures of my brother and his actually hot boyfriend"

"CAN YOU NOT IGNORE ME? Oh dear god I swear I'll never nose to Merlin's business anymore, my eyesss"

85.

 

**DRAGONLORD**

 

86.

 

Merlin and Arthur have fun with a new toy.

 

87.

 

 

88.

 

 

89.

 

Summary: Arthur thought Merlin lacked boundaries _before_ being magicked into a freaky vine.

 

90.

 

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/wvqbGoE.jpg)

click for full size

 

91.

 

Merlin was feeling bored, horny and experimental. Things escalated from there.

 

92.

 

 

93.

 


End file.
